


Ragdoll

by Lizardbeth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt Loki (Marvel), Hurt/Comfort, Loki Angst, Odin (Marvel)'s Parenting, Protective Frigga (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 51,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13026732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizardbeth/pseuds/Lizardbeth
Summary: When Hulk slams Loki into the floor, Thor must hurry to Asgard with him to save his life.





	1. Back to Asgard

**Author's Note:**

> I started this ages ago after a comment by someone that one of the reasons the Hulk-smash-Loki scene is so funny is because we, the audience, are surprised but also reassured that he'll be fine. So what if he weren't? I wrote about the first half, but then put it away.
> 
> But I saw someone on Tumblr (lizardbeths.tumblr.com if you're curious) request other stories with this idea, I figured hey, why not put up at least the whump part for the holidays? there's more to come.

* * *

 

Hulk grabbed Loki and slammed him against the floor, again and again.

At first, the floor was the one to give, as the immortal's body was strong. But Tony had built his tower well, and Hulk's strength and rage proved the stronger.

A wood-like snap joined the slamming of god against concrete underfloor, then another crack and another, like twigs, as Loki was thrown from side to side.

Like a child abandoning an unwanted broken toy, Hulk dropped him there in a hollow of shattered tiles and wandered away.

 

* * *

 

Natasha was the first to find him, creeping near to the hole in the floor warily, a pistol held before her. Her eyes widened in astonishment and she lowered her gun at the lack of threat presented -- the lack of threat he would present ever again.

That green and black leather outfit was sodden with red blood, and his limbs splayed wrongly, broken, one bone shining white out of his lower leg.

She touched her communicator bud in her ear to reach one of her companions, whoever was close now that the battle was finished. "Tell Thor – Loki's down. He needs to come here at the top of Stark Tower, ASAP."

" _Understood_ ," Steve answered.

She could see from the bubble of blood at Loki's lips that he was still alive, and she was fairly sure – immortal god or no – he wasn't going to stay alive for very long.

Only moments later Thor arrived in a crash of wind that rattled the windows and he hurried in through the sliding door, hammer swinging at his side. "Lady Natasha! The Captain Rogers has given me to understand--"

His voice died away utterly as he glimpsed Loki in the smashed hollow of the floor. "Loki! No, how can this be?" he whispered in horror. "What occurred?" he asked her, not taking his gaze away from Loki.

"I didn't see it, but my guess is Banner," she answered.

Thor threw himself to his knees at Loki's side.

In that instant, Loki's wrongs were immaterial to Thor – everything he'd done to Earth, to Thor himself, didn't matter as his voice went hoarse, "No, little brother, not like this... Please...." He leaned forward, fingers to touch Loki's cheek and push back a bloodied strand of his black hair.

Natasha considered whether to tell him he was mistaken. It was only a matter of time, and if she said nothing, Thor would sit there and grieve until it was true, but she offered, "Thor. He's breathing."

Thor was startled with the information. "Is it so?" But then they both saw Loki's eyelashes flutter.

"Loki." Thor put his hand on Loki's cheek and bent over him. "You must hold on," he urged Loki in a hoarse voice. "Please hold on... I will get you home."

Loki's eyelids cracked open, creasing at the corners with pain, and his lips trembled.

"Yes," Thor urged him. "Loki, I will take you home."

Loki said something unintelligible as the effort to speak pushed a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. Then, he tried again, and the word was perfectly clear, if soft, "No."

Thor shook his head, blue eyes glistening now. "No, Brother, we will get you home, and you will be fine. Everything will be well again, you'll see – Mother will fix it..."

Loki whispered again, "... no...." His eyes shut again, tears slipping free, either of sorrow or pain. Barely audible, he added, "let... go."

"No! No, I will not, and I will not allow you either," Thor implored. "Not again, Loki, please, hold on." He bent closer and slid his hands beneath Loki's shoulders and legs. "Forgive me, I know this will hurt you, but we need to hurry."

He lifted Loki in his arms, carefully bringing him in close to his body. Loki jerked several times, head hanging back, and a terrible whimpering noise came from his throat as if he was trying to scream but couldn't. His shattered legs dangled, as did his arm, hanging oddly, the elbow dislocated.

Thor froze, as if the feel of Loki's body in his arms was too strange, because it bent in the wrong places. He had to close his eyes and gather his strength. Then, tenderly he maneuvered Loki's head to rest against his broad shoulder, as Loki wheezed for shallow breaths.

Natasha bit her lip at the sight of the back of Loki's head – his black hair was wet with blood as well, from a head wound that was bleeding freely down his neck and onto Thor's forearm.

Thor brushed his cheek on the top of Loki's head. "We're going home, Loki, rest easy."

He stood, carrying Loki's body without much visible effort. He told Natasha, "I will return for the tesseract, as soon as I can."

After the funeral, would be her guess. The halting breaths were slowing, and he'd slid into unconsciousness. Blood was dripping from Thor's gauntlets, and there was enough pooled in the hollow where Loki had been to kill a human. Thor might be able to get him back to Asgard before he bled out, but Natasha would not lay money on his survival. Even the myths agreed that the gods could die, and quite plainly his immortality or healing or whatever he had, had been overwhelmed by the Hulk's attack.

It was a chill reminder of what the Hulk could do.

Thor headed outside to the balcony. She felt strangely bad for Loki's arm, hanging down, it had to be hurting him like that and so with careful grip she took his wrist and lifted it to rest on his stomach. He didn't react to the touch, and his skin was chill and lax with shock, keeping the imprint of her fingers.

Thor watched her and nodded once. "Thank you. Keep back," Thor warned then he tipped his head back to bellow. "HEIMDALL! Bring us home!"

It was … amazing. Even after everything she'd seen in the last few days, it shocked her – a bolt of lightning crashed down from the empty sky, and in a flash of rainbow colors that dazzled her eyes and flashed back upward again. Thor and Loki were gone, leaving behind blood and a ten meter circle of ornate burnt design like a great wax seal had been impressed on flooring.

She glanced up at the sky reflexively, but there was nothing up there to see. It was all over. 

* * *

 

Frigga ran to the healers the moment she heard that Thor and Loki had returned, and Loki was hurt.

Arriving, it was nothing like she had imagined. In the past, both boys had been injured, battle wounds that had hurt them but healed swiftly, but this was utterly different.

A gasp flew from her throat, seeing the broken form Thor was laying on the transport bed. "Loki! Oh ancestors... Is he still alive?" The words barely made it from her throat, as her fear that it was too late choked her throat.

"Yes, my queen," Eir said, glancing at the diagnostic readout. "We must take him for treatment, now." Her sharp eyes set on Thor. "Do you require treatment?"

Thor looked down and Frigga noticed the blood on his armor. She felt dizzy and cold, fearing that Thor was hurt, too, but he shook his head. "It is none of mine."

She gripped his arm in gratitude that he was well, even though she was horrified to realize all of that reddish stain had to belong to Loki.

"We will do what we can," Eir promised and activated the stasis field as the team pushed the bed toward the treatment bay.

Frigga watched them go, cold with dread. The stasis field was a tool of last resort, to put those on the edge of death outside of the passage of time. The transport disappeared from view, and she blinked, finding her fingers gripping Thor's arm so tightly they refused to let go. She pried them away, and he stirred from his own dark thoughts.

"How?" she asked him. "How could this happen?"

"The one they call Bruce Banner," Thor answered. "He is akin to the Eternals, though I know not what exactly created his alternate form. But in that alternate form, he is … strong. Very strong. And he was in a rage from the attack on his city. I came upon them in the aftermath, but it seemed as if Banner slammed him into the floor, and both floor and Loki shattered in the impact."

His eyes were sad and troubled. "I do not understand, Mother," he whispered. "I implored him again and again to come home, to stop his terrible plan, and he refused. He brought the Chitauri to Midgard, in conquest and death, and many were slain. If we do not lose him to death, I fear we have lost him to his madness, to hate--"

She smoothed his hair. "There is still hope, Thor. He is here, now. He lost his way in anger and despair, but he may yet find a path back to the light."

She hoped so, but she was more worried that Loki would see no path but the one that led to death. He had taken that path once before, and a path once taken was easier to find a second time.

She turned to Thor. "Go change. He will be in treatment for some time yet, and I will look upon you more easily without his blood on your armor."

Thor departed, with a backward glance toward the double doors that led to the healers sector. 

That left Frigga alone, to wait.  

She had never been so aware of time, as she waited for word from Eir. She sat down, she paced, she embroidered, she read – nothing held her attention more than minutes before she had to do something else, as anxiety held her in clammy fists and would not ease.

Minutes crept past, and Thor finally returned with clean clothes. "Is there word?"

She shook her head. "Nothing yet." She folded her fingers together in her lap, trying to hold to queenly calm. Her concession to worry was to rub one thumb against the other, until Thor laid his hand around hers. She glanced at him, surprised, especially as he gave her a little smile.

"I never realized, Loki does that, too," he murmured. "But there is no need to be anxious. He will be well," he told her, as if he had no doubt.

She nodded, trying to believe. "Then, while we wait, you must tell me of Midgard. The truth," she warned. "I cannot help him if I know only what he tells me."

"It is... difficult to hear," he warned.

"I think we have been ill-served by comforting lies," she murmured, glancing toward the inner door. "Speak." She gestured for him to take the other seat, and sat down on the padded bench that circled the pillar. "Help the time pass, my son."

He told the story, which saddened her but was not a surprise after what she'd sensed of Loki's mind that brief moment she had touched it to learn he was still alive.

The left-side door opened and Frigga's head snapped around to see Eir entering. Frigga was on her feet and halfway to the door, before she had judged Eir's expression. Eir was not grim enough to bring news of death, but nor was she smiling. Frigga's breath caught and she swallow down the lump in her throat. "Eir? How is he?"

Eir glanced at Thor, who was standing at Frigga's side, and met Frigga's eyes, with sympathy. "He is badly hurt, my queen. He suffered numerous bone fractures, something I was not sure was possible for one of the higher races, internal injuries, and immense blood loss. We have spent this time stabilizing him, and I believe he is out of immediate danger."

Thor gripped Frigga's arm. "See, I told you, Mother. He will be well."

But Frigga wasn't fooled by Eir's statement of 'immediate' danger. "And? What more?"

Eir nodded her head. "Indeed. Of his many injuries, my queen, the most serious is a skull fracture. There has been cranial swelling. While it is not worsening it is also not improving with treatment, and he is deeply unconscious and unresponsive. Even if he awakens, I do not know at this point what damage there may be."

Frigga inhaled a shaky breath, hand on her chest to keep calm.

"Damage?" Thor repeated, shocked. "What do you mean "if" he awakens? Why would he not? He should heal."

"He is healing, my prince, but in essence, his gift was overwhelmed and he became mortal. That will take some time to grow strong again. He may not heal completely, as severed limbs or the Allfather's eye do not return. We are tough, my prince, but not invulnerable."

' _may not heal completely_ ' - Frigga heard the words and felt that she could not understand them. How could that be that his injuries might not heal fully? But that was not even the worst of what Eir was telling her.

"You believe the coma may persist?" Frigga asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I warn you of the possibility. It is not unknown, especially…."

Eir trailed off and wouldn't finish. Frigga prompted. "Especially?"

"Especially in those who believe they have nothing to live for, my queen," Eir finished softly. "He awoke briefly when I released the stasis field, and he said, _let go_. He was not actively willing himself to death, or he would not have survived from Midgard, yet I do not think he is fighting to live either. I do not know if he will wake again."

Frigga clutched Thor's arm again as the dread news settled on her like a weighted blanket, making the air seem close and hot and unbreathable. "What do we do, Eir?" her voice was barely a whisper.

"We wait, my queen. I have done all I can, but now it is his choice: he will wake, or he will let go of this life and he will die."

Frigga nodded, unable at first to find her voice. "May I visit?"

"Of course."

Eir led the way back and through an open archway, where Loki lay. He was suspended in a glowing energy field, meant to support him gently and keep all his shattered bones in alignment while it monitored his vital signs for the readouts against the far wall.

Frigga saw none of them though, going forward until she stood beside him, close enough to look down. Even through the veil of the brightly orange light, his face looked translucent and gaunt, lashes like jet against the snow-pallid skin. Eir had cut his hair very short and shaved it off the side and back where the injury was hidden beneath a monitor patch. She caught her breath to see it, words like _skull fracture_ and _brain damage_ tumbling through her thoughts again.

"Oh my darling," she whispered. "What happened to you? We can fix it, all of it, please come back. You don't have to be lost."

She didn't expect a response, not with his coma and the induced paralysis of the restrictive field, but it was still disheartening that there was none.

"He will be well, Mother," Thor declared, and she started with surprise, not having realized he'd followed her in. She glanced at him, and Thor forced a smile. "He is stubborn and contrary, and he will awaken just to spite us."

"I hope so," she murmured, her gaze drawn back to Loki's body before her. "Never have I seen either of you hurt so grievously."

"Yet he holds on," Thor pointed out.

She opened her mouth to correct him, but in the end said nothing. Perhaps in some deeper stubbornness he was holding on, despite his conscious desire to let go. Glancing at the display, she amended that -- perhaps his injuries made his will utterly irrelevant. His spirit might yet flee from such damage and pain. "We can only wait now, as Eir said. Nor do I wish him to wake yet, when he will know only pain."

Thor nodded his understanding and they stood together in silence, until Thor broke it. "Father has not come."

She glanced toward the monitoring window, though she could sense Odin's absence. "No. Nor will he."

"Even though Loki may lie on his deathbed?" Thor asked, pained.

Frigga felt too frayed to defend Odin from Thor's incomprehension. "The last time he visited Loki during illness or injury was so long ago I cannot remember. He will not come now." Yet she had no doubt that Loki had kept a tally; he had not hidden his hurt from her, though he had stopped commenting on it years ago. "But I will go speak with him, and warn him that Loki may yet pass from us."

"I could speak with him," Thor offered, when her feet refused to stir from Loki's side.

She forced herself to draw a deep breath. "No. I must."

"I will stand watch here, then."

She was grateful for the offer, but it seemed a little absurd. "He will not wake today, my son."

"No matter. I will stay. He may not hear me, but perhaps he will, when I speak to him. Perhaps the truth will finally batter its way inside that he remains my brother, no matter what."

She gripped his arm. "I pray that it does, Thor."'

Wanting desperately to kiss Loki's forehead, she had to take solace in saying to him, "I will return soon, my son."

_I will hurry back and pray every step that you do not leave when I have no chance of holding onto you._

* * *

... tbc... 

 


	2. King's Judgment

Frigga entered the receiving hall, anger surging the moment she saw Odin in his throne, as if nothing had happened. Odin was conducting ordinary business, as if Loki had not been _hours_ with Eir, while his mother and brother waited anxiously.

She wished for the power to put the thought in his head: _You should be with your son_.

He didn’t hear it, but he knew her moods well enough to bring the audience to an end and remove to the scriptorium next door.

He dismissed the record-keepers to have privacy and seated himself at the great table, gesturing her to the nearer chair. “Be comfortable and speak. This is of Loki, I presume?”

She sat, perched on the edge, too anxious to be comfortable. “I shall not stay long. And yes, of course I will speak of him, as you have not visited him.”

His eye flicked down, not meeting hers. “The business of the Realms is of more urgency than--”

“Your son?”

“-- than a criminal,” he finished, now glaring at her. “Or a madman, who sought the destruction of two Realms.”

Her jaw tightened. “Who is still your son. And he lies near death in Eir’s care.”

Odin hesitated, but because he didn't wish to speak, she knew. He had already decided. He straightened in his chair and brought Gungnir closer. “So the vengeance of Midgard takes its course,” he declared finally. “He attacked them and pays the price. The healers will withdraw their assistance."

Frigga stared at him, astounded and horrified. "But … he surely shall perish without it."

"For his crimes he would deserve execution. This is a more fitting end."

Her heart was leaden in her chest as she searched for words, but found none at first. She rose to her feet, hands curled on the top of the table, as her heart beat in sudden anxious rhythm. She had feared that Loki might slip away because of his injuries or his own will; she had not thought to fear her own husband's decisions.

"No. It is not right," she protested.

"You think as a mother--" he began, with infuriating condescension, and she would not – could not – understand how he was saying any of this.

"As you should as a father!" She pointed in the direction of the healer's chambers, fingers shaking. "Your son lies in there, in shattered _pieces_ , in a coma from which he may never awaken, and that is not enough? You want his death, too?

"I am the king!"

She raised her voice above his angry bellow. "You acted as a father, for a thousand years, while Thor was reckless and did as he willed all across the Nine. The _king_ did nothing.” She clenched a jaw, waiting, and when she saw no softening in his visage, she reached for the last arrow in her quiver and launched it. “You acted as a father and preserved the life of another of your blood who did far worse.”

He recoiled in his seat, as her rhetorical arrow struck, and his hand tightened on Gungnir as if for a moment he considered wielding it to defend himself. Another time she would regret the strike, but she would not show mercy to him now, when he had no use for it himself. “Yet now, when Loki needs you the most, when he is back with us from unknown trials, and when we might heal his mind and heart, you wish him dead." A worse thought struck that this was not the first time. "Is that why you would not save him at the Bifrost? Did you want his death even then?" she accused bitterly. "Why did you not let him die on Jotunheim if you will not care now?"

He didn't react to her harsh accusation, and it made her more angry. Feeling her blood heat inside her skin, so intent was her rage, she paused and looked into his face, promising in a low voice, "If you _murder_ my helpless son, I will live as the lowliest beggar in all the Nine before I endure the sight of you again." She pulled off her marriage band and threw it to the table. It landed with a metallic clang and rolled a little ways before falling to a stop right before him. She was pleased to see him flinch, finally, as he realized he would not get his way without consequence. Her voice was tight. "If your heart has grown so cold, you have no need of a queen or wife."

She turned on her heel to head for the doors.

"Frigga, do not turn your back on me…" he growled, a low warning rumble as if she should be afraid _now_.

Looking back at him, she retorted, "Or what? You will forget you have a wife as quickly as you have forgotten you have another son? Or you will bury us as you did your daughter? If you remember we exist, I will be at Loki's side and ensure Eir does not obey your foul judgment. If you want him dead, you will have to do it yourself."

His fingers groped for the ring, but she didn't want to wait and see what he would do with it. She didn't want to look at him anymore.

She whirled back around and left, hurrying back to the healer's chamber where Loki lay within the energy cocoon.

Thor stood beside Loki and he turned his head to see her come in. He shook his head a little. "There has been no change."

She glanced at the readout above the head of the bed to see for herself. He was so quiet. His heart was slow, breathing barely measureable, and even the depressed signals of the brain itself seemed barely there. It would take so little to stop all of it.

He floated within the energy field, touching nothing of the bed beneath him, held still to keep all aligned to heal properly. His skin was marred with wounds and bruises, raw and discolored in places. He’d always been lean, but now seemed mere skin and broken bones.

It came to her that he would dislike being displayed in such a way. He always took care with his appearance, choosing his clothes with care to look strong and in control. He would hate everyone being able to see him naked and vulnerable as a babe, his injuries in full view.

But of course he was unaware, and she could do nothing about it for him until Eir allowed him a bed.

If--- if it was the end, Frigga resolved to spread a sheet over him, so others would only see his face, pale but little touched by the attack.

She thought of the energy cocoon shut off and the suppression of his pain withdrawn, and she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep control. She would not allow weakness, not now, not when Loki needed her most.

Thor was more perceptive than he once had been and frowned at her in concern. "You are upset by something, Mother. Something more than Loki's condition."

She inhaled a deep breath. "Your father – your father intends to tell the healers to withdraw their support and let your brother die. To – to punish him."

"What?" Thor asked, in shock and disbelief. "No, he can't."

"He can, Thor. I... I have threatened to divorce him if he goes through with it, but I – I can do little more than that. If he truly intends to enforce his decision...." Her voice faded on the words, and she pushed her fingers through the field to touch the back of Loki's hand and caress it gently. His skin was so cold…. He was not blue, but he might as well be. Or dead.

She closed her eyes, holding her lip between her teeth as she forced herself to take a normal breath.

"No, I will not allow it," Thor declared staunchly. "We can – we will take him somewhere else. Far away."

"He would not survive the journey," she told him, her own voice turned to sand in her throat, yet her eyes were wet as she stared at Loki, looking not just at his broken body, but the soul within. "You cannot see it, my son. But his life hangs by the slimmest of threads, shines with the dimmest of embers. He will not fight, letting the current take him where it wills. Perhaps," her voice was a ghost now. "Perhaps the king is right, but for the wrong reasons. Perhaps we should... let him go."

Thor’s voice was appalled. "Mother!"

"What is there for him? Truly?" she asked. "I had hoped, if he came home, to show him he remains part of our family and thereby bring him back to us. And now..." she shook her head, unable to find her voice for a moment, as tears pricked her eyes with heat again. Thor put a hand on her shoulder and she turned, leaned into him. "Now I know Loki saw more clearly than I. That he is no son to Odin, that there will be no mercy for him... Even if he wakes, he's lost to us... He will never – my little-- my little--"

Her voice choked in her throat as Thor's arms went around her. "Mother..."

She rested her head against his shoulder as the tears flowed under her eyelids and down her cheeks, and she gasped for breath, feeling as riven to the soul as she had that moment Odin had told her that Loki had fallen from the Bifrost. Except then at least she'd had a little hope that she might find him; but now, she could look right at him, body shattered and mind wandering far afield in shadowy places, and she knew he was doomed.

"Mother, we will not give up," Thor murmured, stroking her hair. "I have to believe there’s a way to bring him back to us. Whatever madness seized him, we can help him. And if I have to fight Father to stop him, I will, this I swear."

She sniffed and inhaled a deeper breath, raising her head to wipe her cheeks. "I could not bear it if you two fought, Thor."

He glanced at the quiescent form wrapped in its glowing cocoon and did not take back his oath. "I did not lift Loki out of a pool of his own blood and carry him home to watch him die now." He kissed her forehead. “Keep him safe. I will take care of this.”

As he left, he held out a hand to bring Mjolnir to him, and she bit her lip to keep from calling after him. Heart in her throat, she looked back to Loki, praying Thor might talk sense into his father without further grief.

* * *

tbc... 


	3. A son's nature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and being patient! <3 you all, lizardbeths @ tumblr.

* * *

 

 

The entry hall mocked Thor. All those statues of past glory towered high above him, but the more he looked at them, the more he hated them. He hated what they represented, and more, he hated the obvious hypocrisy..

He stopped at the statue commemorating Bor’s victory over Svartalfheim. It was imposing and grand, but Thor knew the conquest had been bloody and terrible, and left much of Svartalfheim in ashes. He squirmed thinking of how little he would’ve cared before his visit to Midgard and experiencing Jane’s bright fire and his own weakness – but was that not the point? He had been raised not to care, and it was wrong and unjust for Odin to change his mind and want Loki to die for doing exactly what these statues had shown him was the noble and glorious thing to do.

It was infuriating, and Thor gripped Mjolnir tightly, tempted to shatter that statue into a hundred pieces.

The sound of boots on the tile floor broke into his rage, and he looked toward the far end of the hall, where the giant doors had swung open from the throne room.

He saw his father, carrying Gungnir and resplendent in his golden armor and red cape approaching, trailed by four Einharjar. As soon as he saw Thor, his step paused, then he sent the guards away and came to meet Thor alone.

Thor didn’t let him speak first. "You made Mother cry," Thor accused.

Odin's lips tightened in a sort of flinch. "Loki—"

"No," Thor interrupted sharply, not wanting Odin to cast any more blame on others. " **You** did. She had hope until you snatched it away from her."

Odin ground the end of Gungnir into the stone floor. "There is no hope. You and your mother persist in believing there is something to save, but there is nothing. He is an enemy of Asgard, of Midgard, of every living creature in the Nine Realms. A monster."

"He’s my **brother**!" Thor shouted at him. "Your son. How can you give up on him so easily?"

"He is not my son!" Odin bellowed back.

Thor had expected that, from what Frigga had said, but the words still shocked and horrified him. "So he was right," Thor said, barely able to push the words out. "Over and over again on Midgard, I told him he’s my brother, I told him I love him still… but he never believed me, because he knows all those times you told him you were his father, were a lie. He loved you, and you threw it away. And like Laufey before you, now he has no more use, you want to leave him to die."

Odin twitched at pairing him with Laufey, and returned, "I saved him, and he betrayed me, trying to destroy and conquer other Realms."

Thor hurled Mjolnir into Bor’s thigh. Odin flinched back and lifted Gungnir defensively. As Bor’s leg smashed, Thor exclaimed, “This has nothing to do with other Realms!” He caught Mjolnir again and heaved a breath, saying through gritted teeth, “You want him gone, so you don't have to look at your failure. Easier to pretend he never existed at all; easier to pretend he did not become what you made him.” He was pleased to see Odin flinch at that. “Well, he did exist, Father. And he is your son, even if you deny him now. And he’s my brother, and I will not abandon him." He settled into a stance, Mjolnir held ready, and clenched his jaw. "If you want him dead, I will fight you."

He had never fought his own father before, nor had he previously imagined such a thing, but for this, he would not surrender.

"You would fight for him?" Odin demanded, incredulous. "He tried to murder you."

That was so distant from what Thor expected him to say, he stared, feeling as if some curtain had just been lifted. "Murder me? Is that the root of your fury? He attacked me, and you wish to punish him for that?"

Odin didn't answer.

_Norns, was it true?_

Thor took a moment to reformulate his thoughts and put away his anger. _Give me your words, Brother, because I sorely need them_.

Dampening his dry lips, Thor said, "You call him monster, but that’s what he thinks he is. Because you kept a secret from him that struck him to the heart. He rejects us, because he feels rejected by us. In his rage, he attacked me and Midgard. Maybe he truly hates me, I no longer know.” It hurt to think it was true, that Loki rejected their bond as brothers. But Thor would keep the hope that Loki’s heart would mend along with his body.

Thor tried to keep his voice calm. “None of that matters now. He’s broken and bleeding and suffering. If you want him punished for what he did, he is being punished most sorely. His bones were shattered in so many places Eir could not count all the shards. He will be in pain for months or- or years to come, and may not **ever** be as he was.” Thor had to stop as his voice frayed, imagining Loki never able to rise from his bed, and inhaled to start over. “Because of the trauma from his skull fracture, there may be damage more significant still, and that we will know only **if** he wakes."

Odin's gaze flickered away, and his lips pressed together, as if he hadn't heard the full catalog of Loki’s injuries. Thor had his first hope that maybe Odin hadn't entirely cut Loki from his heart after all.

"Father, look on him," Thor pleaded. "I carried him from Midgard, my armor awash in his blood, and I feared every second it would be his last. He may yet die. Without your help." He choked out a laugh. "You and he are in strange agreement. He told me, with what might be his final words, to let go. To let him die. But I lost him once, to the void between Realms, to madness, and I will not lose him again."

He fixed his eyes on Odin, pleading, but hopefully making clear his determination as well. Push this and he would fight, and hold nothing back. Odin would still win in the end, since Thor was not such a fool to imagine the Odinforce would not triumph in a real fight, but in that victory he would lose everything else. Thor was betting Odin would know Thor wasn’t bluffing.

He did, and he wasn’t willing to fight. “Very well,” Odin said abruptly. “You and your mother’s staunch defense will be my mercy. As you say, his injuries shall serve as his punishment. But you and Frigga are blind to the truth of him: he is not the boy he once was. His heart has grown twisted with malice and lust for conquest. He serves himself and our enemies, not Asgard. Nothing good shall come from this mercy, in the end.”

He turned from Thor, heading back the way he came and not toward the rooms of healing.

Thor didn’t try to call after him, but when he was gone, he said, “One of us is blind, Father, but it’s not us. We’ll bring him back.”

Those brave words proved too optimistic, as he returned to the healer’s hall. They couldn’t bring Loki back; he would have to wake on his own, and he showed no sign of doing so yet.

Loki floated inside the golden energy field, as if were a cocoon, and Thor could only pray that he would emerge renewed. But he didn’t like how gaunt Loki’s face was, especially with his hair trimmed so short, and Thor remembered Loki having more muscle on him before his ‘death.’ Worse, his skin was bruised and swollen oddly, he barely breathed, and his usually-restless fingers never twitched. It was unnerving, as if Thor looked on a preserved corpse, not his brother’s living body.

Frigga glanced at him as he joined her. “You saw the king?”

“I did. He said these injuries,” he nodded toward Loki’s frail, broken form, “will be punishment enough. He will not attempt to withdraw aid.” She nodded, briefly closing her eyes in relief that Odin had given way. More quietly, trying to keep Loki from hearing though Thor had been told Loki was so deeply unconscious he knew nothing outside his cocoon, he said, “He said Loki was a monster. Denied him. Why is he being so cold?”

“I suppose because he knows where desire for conquest and power leads,” she answered, not looking away from Loki as if the strength of her gaze could bring him back.

“Because Bor destroyed Svartalfheim?” Thor asked, though it wasn’t much of a question.

“Because," she paused and then corrected him, "Odin himself conquered. It was not Bor who united the Nine Realms.”

“But,” Thor frowned and set Mjolnir down, “Grandfather had victories over all of them. That’s what I learned. And Father was the one who brought peace after all the wars under Bor.”

Her lips twitched in a sort of smile that Thor thought very reminiscent of Loki. “That is the story, yes.”

Thor glanced at Loki and considered a lifetime of believing himself Aesir and discovering it was a story. “It’s not true.”

“There are always secrets, my son. Especially when people do things they later are ashamed of doing.”

Thor mulled that over. “So Father was the true conqueror.”

“Not that Bor did not do his share of battle, of course,” Frigga allowed. “Odin learned from him. But… he grew tired of the wars and when he had a new son,” she touched Thor’s arm and smiled, “he wanted you to know peace.”

He shrugged her off, not mollified. “Then why did he teach us war?”

She lifted her brows. “Because a king may not always choose when war comes, or be able to avoid it, Thor.”

He supposed that was true, but it was unsatisfactory. The glories of Bor and war were still celebrated, even if the peace of Odin was, too. “And yet Loki genuinely believed destroying Jotunheim would be--” He almost said ‘right’ but he didn’t think Loki had thought that, not even when he’d had the Bifrost spun up. He hadn’t thought of right or wrong at all. “-- something Father would approve. So he knew what Father did.”

She grimaced, and glanced back at Loki. “He knew some of it. The histories could not all be altered, and much is not a secret, so much as not celebrated. So yes, I suppose he believed he was proving himself loyal, while instead he proved himself," she hesitated to choose her words, "beholden to old ideas of conquest and destruction.”

Thor snorted. “Though he’d been the one least in favor of it before. He cautioned me to leave on Jotunheim, not start the war.” He shook his head, heart pained with regret. “If I’d done as he suggested, how much of all this could have been avoided?”

She sighed and patted his arm. “You were reckless, but this is the fault of others far more than you: Loki himself, Odin, me…If we had not let the truth fester, it would not have emerged in such a shocking way. We tried to mitigate the damage, but too little, too late. Seeds were sown for this long ago.”

He opened his mouth to ask why she’d kept the secret of Loki’s heritage for so long, but then changed his mind, on seeing her face, pale with worry and regret. This was not time for recriminations or blame. He wrapped her in his embrace, offering what comfort he could while they waited.

 

* * *

 

Frigga wished her tongue were not quite so agile, and the truth not forbidden, so she could tell all of it to Thor. Loki would have noticed her evasions, but Thor was still learning the unfortunate lesson that neither of his parents were the paragons of virtue he had thought

He would have to learn the truth, and the time was coming rather more urgently than ever before, but she was also in no mood to fight with Odin about it. Loki needed her protection for now, so the truth, as always, would have to wait.

Her hand pushed through the field to touch Loki's, needing that contact to reassure herself he lived.

Other movement drew her attention, as Eir and two assistants entered. They bowed their heads politely before moving to the monitors to examine the results. Frigga could see enough to know he was beginning to heal. It was slower than it should be, but at least the process had begun for improvement.

The healers murmured together, and Frigga let the sound wash over her, watching Loki’s face. His chest barely rose for his breaths, and it was difficult to match hers to his, they were so slow. But still she tried, finding it calming. He would heal. He would wake up. She had kept her hope when he had been completely lost from sight and Odin and Heimdall and all the rest had told her he was dead. She would not lose hope now.

“All-Mother?” Eir’s quiet voice stirred her from her thoughts. She found the healer had come to stand beside her, and her expression held something new and grave. “If you both would come to the monitors, I have something to show you.”

Her chest tightened with sudden anxiety and she exchanged a glance with Thor, as she withdrew her hand from Loki’s to follow the healer and hear her report.

* * *

 

tbc


	4. Revelation

Frigga stood beside Eir in front of the displays, with Thor on her other side.

“Apprentice Leidl found something disturbing on the detailed scan,” Eir said. Frigga expected her to indicate the brain scan, but instead she gestured to a view of his legs, pulling a more detailed image out before them. “This is his right leg. You see the current fracture here."

Frigga swallowed back her grief at the image of the ragged break at the knee and nodded. "Yes, of course. He was struck with immense force."

"Indeed. But as you can see it was not the first time," Eir said and gestured the image wider to show greater detail. "Look here. Faint, healed, but his bone retains the mark of a previous fracture."

"In battle…?" Thor started.

But Eir shook her head. "No, my prince. I have records of all the prince’s injuries before. It is possible there is an error for one, but we found several for which there are no records. They are recent enough to retain a distinct shadow of healing.”

"What are you saying?" Thor demanded, then his eyes widened in realization. "His fall from the Bifrost hurt him so badly?"

"They are not from before so must be after,” Eir confirmed, her words too careful. And she pulled another image before Frigga’s gaze. At first Frigga thought it was a duplicate or mirror-image of the first until she understood what she was seeing. Frigga’s gaze snapped to meet Eir’s, and the healer nodded with grim agreement.

Frigga looked again at the images. There were marks in his bones, remnants of breaks no more than two years old. The two on his legs, mirroring each other, as if some giant had snapped them in two. There was nothing natural about the location or the precision of the healed breaks.

"He fell with such force?" Thor asked, brows drawing together in distress in confusion.

Frigga put a hand on Thor's arm. "No, my son, look again. That isn't what these show."

"What then?" he asked.

She didn’t answer at first as Eir paged through to show her the others. “My poor child,” she whispered. Her eyes pricked with tears as she turned to look at him, floating unconscious in his healing cocoon. Sniffing, she inhaled deeply to settle herself again and answered Thor, “These were no accident. Someone or something applied enough force to his limbs to break his bones. Not once, but multiple times."

Thor turned horrified eyes to the scan. "No, but how? What are-- I--- This cannot be…."

"After he fell from the Bifrost, someone tortured him," Frigga confirmed, her voice barely emerging from her throat, as it clenched in pain. "They left no scars on his skin, but his bones still keep a record."

" _Tortured_ him?" Thor repeated in blank dismay. "But who?" He blinked and frowned. "The Chitauri?"

"Perhaps," Frigga said. She did not think so, as the Chitauri were historically foot soldiers for greater powers. Nor did they have the ability to hide Loki from her sight. He had only appeared as the attack had begun, away from whatever shield had covered him. She had thought he had done it himself but it was plain now, it had been someone else hiding their foul work.

"Even if he were weakened by the void," Eir mused, frowning at the scans herself, “this is beyond most of mortal reach. To break and heal in this way, would require advanced technology, or at minimum, great strength."

"Like Banner," Thor said. "But without anger. To do such harm deliberately."

“It is malice. Evil with a purpose,” Frigga agreed.

“To what purpose?” Thor asked, frowning in confusion and dismay. “And who?”

Frigga snapped the display closed and wrapped her fist around the spark to carry it with her. “We will find out. But first, I have a report to make to the king.”

She stalked the corridors, anger a burning coal lodged beneath her ribs, as she sought Odin. She found him in council with Tyr and Hogun. “Gentlemen, you will excuse us,” she said, staring at Odin, who had the wisdom to look alarmed by her re-appearance.

Both left with a bow, seeing she was in no mood for anything but the most basic pleasantries.

When silence fell in the wake of the door closing behind them, he greeted, “My wife.” His tone slipped at the end, near a question. when she didn’t speak immediately, he offered, “Thor told you my decision, I believe? That the healers may continue their task.”

“They would always have continued their task,” she said flatly, “either with your approval or in spite of it. Especially once Eir found _this._ ” She thrust out her hand and pulled out the images into full display above the council table.

"You will look at this," Frigga demanded and flicked the top image in Odin's direction, then the next, until he faced them all. "Eir found this in Loki’s scans. Some great power deliberately broke his bones and let them heal, at least eight times, while he was lost in the dark between Realms. His bones show a record of malice and cruelty. Of _torture."_

He looked at her instead, brows drawing together as the import of her words sunk in. "Torture? Nonsense," he insisted, "it is a trick..."

She slammed her hands on the tabletop. "Look at it," she insisted. "It’s the truth. Something we would never have known if you'd had your way-- if you had let him die to punish him, without query or investigation as would be accorded the lowest Aesir. So tell me, All-Father, is it only Jotnar hostages, who are sentenced to death without defense?"

“That is not so!” he objected, but she was having enough of his evasions and denials.

“No? Look at the scans. They tell a different story than the one you told yourself.”

He finally looked. At first he seemed only dutiful and full of doubt, but as he paged through the scans, he grew more grave until his hand dropped away from the display at the sight of Loki’s slack and pale face, limned in orange light. “This… “ he started, but his voice failed. His hand rose to cover his mouth and stroked his beard. She was glad the image shocked him and reminded him of who it was he was condemning -- not some nebulous fear or legendary monster or remnant of ancient failures. It was Loki, his son, who lay close to death.

“This is far worse than I thought,” he admitted more softly, looking down with a shadow of regret across his features. “How could that mortal hurt him so badly?”

Her temper cooled some at the evidence that he felt pity. “It was not the mortals who hurt him the first time. Someone or something powerful held him, hid him from us, and did this.”

He shook his head a little, more in sorrowful agreement than opposition. He raised his eye back to the image of Loki’s face. “I knew,” he murmured. His free hand curled on the surface of the table. “I knew he did not act alone. But Loki seemed too angry to be other than willing ally.”

“It was not so simple. The truth rarely is, my lord. For Loki most of all. How have you not learned that in all this time?”

He shook his head in dismay, beard brushing the collar of his surcoat. “I did not see truly.”

“You saw the past overlaid on the present,” she said. “But the past does not repeat so neatly.” She could offer no absolution. He had, indeed, believed the worst, and it was for him to make amends. She could not, and would not, do it for him.

Without looking at her, he murmured, “What else did they do? To bend him to another’s rule of him, what more did they do?”

She could only shake her head, but she was afraid he was right. There was more. “We will not know until Loki rouses. Or perhaps if Eir finds another scar.” She glanced at the image showing the damage to the side of his head, the thin crack that would likewise scar. Such a tiny thing to be so terrifying.

But Odin was still thinking of the unknown perpetrators of the first harm. “Who would _dare_ to torment my son? How would they risk my wrath and do this?”

“Was it a risk?” It was a reasonable question, though meant to cut. Would he want to avenge this attack on a son he was claiming now, but had refused not long ago?

He got her point, offended. “Yes, of course! This,” he gathered the images together with a wave of his hand, “shall not go unanswered.”

“They hid well enough it very nearly did,” she reminded him, not impressed by the vengeful declaration. “Loki dropped in their lap, already wanting _death._ ” He twitched, lips flattening at the reminder. She remembered when Odin had come to her, to confess that Loki had not ‘fallen’ as was the story, but that he’d deliberately chosen to fall. He’d held her as she’d cried, his beard wet with his own tears, whispering that he was sorry he’d failed to save Loki.

It was the only time she’d seen his grief. That guilt and sorrow had been locked away, hardening his heart further when Loki reappeared, a creature of rage and war.

She added, “Was he not a perfect weapon to point at Midgard, weakened by the fall physically, and mentally by the secret that cut all his moorings to himself? I wonder they had to torture him at all, to do their bidding.”

It occurred to her that perhaps they hadn’t done it for that purpose, but only for sport. There were beings in the universe who found pleasure in such evil, though it made her ill to imagine such a thing happening to her son.

He stilled and his brow creased. “Midgard? That was, I think, only relevant for the Space Gem. That force was never enough to conquer Midgard entirely; Loki alone might have embraced such a tactic of chaos and destruction, but if there is another? No. It was meant to fail. The question becomes, why?” His gaze turned outward, as he pondered. “I wonder if we were meant to find this.” He gestured at the scans. “If I am meant to know they broke him and sent him as their hound against Midgard.”

That hurt, thinking of Loki being used in such a way. “Perhaps they failed to realize we would find this out.”

But Odin shook his head. "I hope so, but better to prepare for the threat."

She nodded agreement. The king had to plan for a competent enemy, while hoping for the best. “Someone powerful who hates Asgard.” Which didn’t narrow the possibilities very much, if she were honest. The tesseract was a prize for almost everyone, and the list of Asgard’s enemies was long and ancient.

“I must find out who.” He stood, energized by this suggestion of a threat.

She held up a hand. “But first, my lord, come see your son.”

He glanced at the image of Loki’s face and agreed.

* * *

 

tbc... 


	5. Tether to this flesh

Thor stayed in Loki’s room while his mother went to confront Odin again over this news. Thor wasn’t sure what she intended to accomplish by doing it, but he wouldn’t want to be in his father’s chair when she was this angry.

Thor was angry, but it was a simmer right now. He wanted to be angry at his father, and he was, but he was far more angry at the mysterious entity that had hurt Loki before his arrival on Midgard. He kept thinking back to the confrontations on Midgard with Loki, wondering if this explained why Loki had seemed so unstable and conflicted. 

“ _Who controls the would-be king_?” 

He’d said that, knowing Loki wasn’t planning the attack alone. He and Odin had both known that, before Thor had gone to Midgard. But they had never stopped to think _why._ Why would Loki ally himself with anyone to conquer Midgard? Why did he care about Midgard at all? Thor had tried to explain it to himself that Loki’s resentments of him had led him to want to take it from Thor, but wouldn’t that end in Loki wanting to _destroy_ it, not conquer it? So then he wanted to be its king, embittered by the realization that his blood kept him off Asgard’s throne. But Loki was too smart not to know his would be a short reign even if he had somehow succeeded against all of Midgard's defenders, since Odin himself could have come to take him down himself, if necessary. So Thor had decided it was simply madness. Loki would never make sense, because the broken Bifrost had driven Loki mad, and that was all. 

But that was not all. If there was madness, it had been inflicted on him by another. No one needed to torture a willing ally. 

Thor put his hand through the field as he’d seen Frigga do, to touch Loki’s pale, cool hand. _What else did they do to you? Are they the ones who gave you those hateful words? Some were your own, I know that, but some were so strange…. so wrong. And when I implored you to stop, you wanted to, but you said it was too late._

_Why didn’t you tell me there was a monster holding a leash on you? We could’ve fought them together, Loki._

Thor looked at Loki’s sleeping face and mourned the change that could have been. If only Loki had told Thor what was wrong. If only Thor had stopped him earlier, Hulk wouldn’t have done this.

He remembered the whispered plea to let go, and Loki doing just that at the Bifrost. The parallel made him wonder: had Loki intended this? His face had been desperate when he’d said it was too late. Thor believed the emotion had been real at that moment. If he’d believed it was too late to stop what was underway, yet he’d also known Thor was right and the Chitauri defeat was inevitable, would Loki have made the same calculation again, that he’d made at the Bifrost. Did he believe it was better to die and escape the trap? Or worse, perhaps he’d been terrified of returning to whoever hurt him, having failed the task he was given, and had preferred death to that possibility?

Thor rubbed his face with his free hand, trying to put the dark thoughts aside. 

They would find out the truth when Loki roused. They’d find the one who’d hurt him, they’d learn the plan, and they could help Loki recover here where he was safe.

There was the sound of footsteps in the anteroom, to heavy to be Frigga returning alone. Thor pulled his hand from the healing field and turned to confront whoever dared pass the guards outside. If this was Volstagg come to pay his respects, Thor would have to send him away. He had no stomach for being invited to carouse when Loki lay so ill. 

But it was not Volstagg, it was Odin, stepping through the archway with Frigga at his feels. 

His heart lurched at this betrayal, that she would bring _him_ here. He held out a hand, to feel Mjolnir’s handle slap into it instantly as he walked the paces toward him to plant himself in the way. 

Odin didn’t notice at first, his single eye staring at Loki enshrouded in the glowing orange-tinted energy. His lips parted and moved without speaking for a moment, before he lowered his gaze and noticed Thor before him. 

He raised a hand. “Peace, my son. I mean no harm,” he murmured.

“You mean no harm?” Thor repeated incredulously. “You did. Now you brazenly enter here, as if he matters to you?” 

“He does matter to me, Thor.” 

“Does he? Until when? Until he wakes up and says something you don’t like, and you decide he’s not worthy of your affection again?” Thor demanded. “You should go. You have no right to be here, after you were so cruel.”

Frigga spoke, her soft voice cutting through his anger. “Thor. Let him pass.” 

He didn't want to but he wouldn’t defy on her on this. He drew away, clearing Odin’s route to Loki.

Moving more slowly, Odin came up to the bedside where he looked down at Loki’s face. “So quiet,” Odin whispered. “So still. How strange and unlike him.” He lifted his head again. “Eir. When will he wake?”

The Healer approached. “I do not know that we will, my king. Not soon, I think.” She glanced at Frigga and her lips made a soft smile of sympathy before addressing them all, “I fear, Prince Loki may not find his way back at all. His spirit travels afield, nearly untethered to his bones.”

Thor gaped at that, hoping she was being poetic for effect, a quick look at his mother’s face revealed a deep worry as she stared blankly at Loki to examine him with senses beyond sight. After a moment, she swallowed hard and closed her eyes in pain. “This is worse than it was when he arrived.”

Thor stammered, “But -- but how can that be? He still lives.”

“Lives, but does not fight,” Odin added heavily, and leaned on Gungnir. “He awaits only the snap of the last tether.”

“So you get what you want after all.” The bitter words snapped out of Thor, unstoppable. “He’s dying and you will stand there and let it happen.” 

“No,” Odin countered. Thor stared at him, rendered speechless. “I will not.” He glanced at Eir. “If I use the Odinforce to retether his spirit, is it best to do so in this form or his true skin?”

The healer considered, while Thor could not believe that Odin meant it. Did he really intend to save Loki’s life -- or only pretend to do so, to re-ingratiate himself with Frigga and Thor, so he could protest that he had tried while he let Loki slip away? Thor hated that he could not trust that Odin meant no harm, but after today, how could he not?

“As he is, I think, All-Father,” she answered. “A reversion might weaken him too much.” 

Odin nodded once, but when he tried to step closer to the bed, Thor grabbed his shoulder to hold him back, “Swear to me,” Thor demanded, somewhat breathless with his own anxiety, “swear to me, that you intend only to help him.”

“Thor, it’s all right,” Frigga promised, but Thor didn’t take his eyes off his father.

“Swear it, and I will let you.” 

“What oath would satisfy you, my son?” Odin asked.

“One you mean to keep,” Thor retorted. “One unlike your oath to protect him and be his father, before.” 

Odin looked down, but Thor didn’t entirely believe the regret. “I was angry, Thor,” he explained. “He caused much death and destruction. Not even my own child can be spared for such villainous acts.”

Thor remembered his own exile - difficult as it had been at the time, he felt that actually had been sparing him, in comparison to the reaction for Loki’s deeds. But this wasn’t the time to argue about that. “And do you feel that way now?”

“Now we know another harmed him. What was his own will is in question. As is how much threat Asgard faces, which only he can answer.”

Frigga moved between them, laying her fingers on Thor’s hand where he held Mjolnir. “Thor, let him bring Loki back to us. He’s the only one who can.” 

“You can,” Thor insisted. 

She shook her head once. “I can call for him, and perhaps he might answer me and return on his own, but I cannot bring him back.”

“Are you sure we should?” Thor asked. When she jerked, dismay flashing over her face, he rushed to clarify, “I mean, so soon. Why not let him rest and heal first?”

“He will heal more swiftly with mind and body and soul aligned,” Frigga told him. “If he can awaken, Eir can send him to normal rest. But right now, he dwells in a twilight and may linger there until he slips away.” 

Her voice faded at the last and Thor’s heart ached. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her tight, and moved out of Odin’s way. “Fine. Help him. Be at least a king, if you will not be a father.” 

Odin’s lips parted as if he wanted to argue, but turned back to concentrate on Loki. His hand tightened on Gungnir and the tip began to glow. That glow brightened until the head of the spear seemed ablaze, and Thor could feel the power thrumming in his own blood and bones. It seemed to echo within the bowels of Asgard itself and deeper still within the structure of the universe itself, the borders of life and death.

Thor had to set down Mjolnir as he found himself trembling, at the echo of that power running through him. He stared into the raw power his father controlld and felt the echo of awe, the unfettered Odinforce lighting up _everything._

Yet within that power something else was happening -- tiny sparks were coalescing, green and gold fragments merging together and turning into larger flames. As they joined, their brightness eclipsed even the Odinforce as Odin raised Gungnir and shouted his command. 

Thor had to look away as the brilliance seared his eyes like lightning, and when he looked again, all seemed normal: the orange-field still surrounded Loki, Odin stood motionless as the glow at the tip of Gungnir faded away. 

But Loki seemed…. better. Thor couldn’t quite identify what had changed, he was too thin, too pale, too still -- but he looked _alive,_ where before he had looked already dead. 

“It worked?” he asked, having to clear his throat. 

Frigga slipped her hand inside the field to touch Loki’s forehead, and turned a smile on Odin and Thor. “Yes. It worked.” She glanced at the display. “Eir, there is more activity.” 

Eir checked and nodded. “Indeed, Allmother.” 

She had barely confirmed when Loki’s eyelids twitched. “He’s waking up!” Thor exclaimed. 

“We must put the field down for him to wake,” Eir said and slowly lowered him to bthe bed beneath. “I will restore it when he sleeps.” 

The orange light disappated from around his head, letting the skin show its true pallor. He was also making a sound, a soft mew in his throat, and Thor looked to Eir. “He’s in pain.” 

“One moment,’ she said and touched some controls. The wrenching sound stopped and his eyes flickered more strongly, finally opening about half. Thor wasn’t sure what, if anything, he was actually seeing. He didn’t show any awareness.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Frigga murmured and drew closer so he could see her face without moving his head. “You’ve been hurt, but now you’re home and everything is going to be fine. Hold on, my little one.”

He blinked again and this time focused on her. His lips twitched into a faint smile, and Thor was relieved.

“Do you know your name?” Frigga asked him, and Thor tensed as Loki didn’t answer right away. 

But it seemed to be his voice, or perhaps the pain in his chest, keeping him from speaking, as he gathered up strength and mouthed “Loki”.

“That’s right,” she smiled, at him. “do you know me?” 

“Ma--” he started to say, forehead knitting, and his eyes squeezed shut. Shallow gasping breaths of agony were all he could manage.

Frigga's smile at his recognition fled as she caressed his cheek. "Hush, love, be at ease. It will pass..." Her touch did not seem to console him. 

“Put him out,” Thor ordered Eir, roughly. “He hurts. It’s too much.” 

Without waiting for anyone else to agree, Eir tapped the controls and in a moment, Loki’s eyes closed. The field surrounded him again and the tension drained out of his face and neck, as he fell asleep. 

“He will sleep now,” she pronounced. “It is best he rest in quiet.” 

“Then we will go,” Frigga murmured. She brushed her fingers across his forehead before she withdrew. “I will be back soon,” she whispered. 

Thor took the hint, grabbing Mjolnir in one hand, and offered his mother his arm before Odin stirred to follow.

* * *

tbc...


	6. Rebuke

In the outer waiting hall, Frigga poured water for herself and for the other two. She had to keep her back to them, as she attempted to regain her composure. but hearing Loki struggle to speak to her and the pain being so overwhelming he was helpless against it, was tearing at her heart.

Behind her, Thor spoke, his voice subdued, “Was his spirit truly almost lost? Was it wrong to pull him back?”

“It was adrift. As to the other, I will not profess to understand the ways of the Norns,” Odin answered, his voice a low weary murmur, “but unless I were certain he was destined for Valhalla, I would say it was better to bring him back.”

“He was hurt in battle! How could it not be?” Thor protested.

“And if he ended in Niflheim instead?” Odin asked, and Frigga’s head snapped around and she nearly dropped her cup, struck by that new horror that had not occurred to her before.

Hela’s imprisonment left her able to interact with the dead. Had Loki’s spirit gone there, she would have found him. Who knew what sort of torment she could deliver upon him. Worse, if -- when -- she were ever freed, Frigga had no doubt that Hela, in her spite, would drag her adopted brother back across as her thrall.

At least when Loki had fallen off the Bifrost, Frigga had been able to confirm he had not touched the Paths of the Dead. It had given her hope that he was still alive, even if she couldn’t find him.

“We cannot know, Thor,” Odin finished, his voice weary. “And not knowing, I would not risk it.”

“Truly?” Thor challenged. “Why not? You thought he deserved it, did you not?”

Odin smashed Gungnir’s haft down on the paving stones, making Frigga jump. “He attempted to conquer Midgard, killed mortals by the bushel, and attempted to destroy Jotunheim! Do not attempt to make his deeds _nothing_ by your pity. That he suffers his reckoning and that I have softened my stance, does not mean he did not deserve a reckoning at all.”

“Father--”

Frigga was about to try to make peace between them, when she saw they were no longer alone.

“No,” Odin refused sharply. “Enough. I have explained myself; it is done.”

“You haven’t explained anything,” Thor retorted, but was interrupted by a Frigga’s touch.

“Thor.”

He turned to see Eir had entered. The healer was silent at first, her expression disapproving.

“All-Father,” she greeted first, “All-Mother. My prince.”

“What news, Eir?” Frigga invited.

“He rests. Now that we know he _can_ awaken, I intend to keep him in deep sleep for at least two days and accelerate the healing as much as I find safe. You may visit him in this time; however, I will not permit the hostility present earlier,” she declared with soft but unyielding command. “He has always been sensitive, and I am concerned tension between you will make him anxious. Any agitation will cause him pain and perhaps further damage, so everyone near him must be calm and considerate of what he may sense of your emotional state.”

Thor opened his mouth to object then shut it again, looking down and feeling ashamed. “I understand.”

But Eir wasn’t finished with them yet, facing Odin without a qualm. “All-Father, so there is understanding between us, while my respect for you is vast, I would not have obeyed your directive to withhold my aid, if you had given it. I am a healer, not your executioner.”

He jerked at the final harsh word, but after a moment, he nodded to her. “You are correct, Healer. I was in error, and I should not have suggested such a thing. I am grateful for your care and attention to Loki.”

Eir bowed her head to them and took her leave. Silence fell in her wake, all three of them rebuked.

Odin pulled in a breath. “Very well. If he will not wake soon to tell us what happened to him, we must find other information. Thor, you are to return to Midgard.”

“But, Father, if Loki should --”

“He is out of danger of death, Thor. The tesseract must not remain in mortal hands. They have already proven themselves incapable of resisting its allure, and will draw further danger to themselves.”

The tesseract, yes, Frigga knew that was important, but she thought not the most important item Thor should bring back to them. “Also, retrieve that scepter Loki used,” Frigga added. “Perhaps some clue to its origins may be found in it. It was not a weapon of his devising.”

She knew that from her brief touch before his invasion had begun. When he’d _laughed_ at her coldly and shut her away, but she’d still been thrilled to touch him at all and know he lived. But there had been another power with him, some bright new thread entwined with his that shone golden. With the revelation of torture, she was intensely curious to find out what it was and where it had come from.

Odin nodded agreement. “Yes. Take the Warriors Three and Lady Sif with you, and do not accept refusal. These objects of power belong to Asgard, and I will have them back.”

Thor cast his eyes toward the doors behind which Loki lay but then nodded his acceptance. “I understand.”

He kissed her cheek and she touched his dearly loved face, promising what he was about to ask, “I will care for him. Have a care for yourself, too. They may not choose to give up these prizes,” she warned him.

He barked a laugh. “No, I doubt they will. But it will be done. Father.” With a respectful nod, he took his leave.

When the door shut behind him, Odin released a breath. “I appreciate his fierce defense of Loki, but not his stubborn resistance.”

“I surely know no one in this family who is goat-headed stubborn,” she returned, almost smiling.

He looked her in the face and held out his hand. In his palm was her ring. “Am I yet forgiven?” he asked.

She hesitated and folded his fingers back around it, her momentary humor fled. “No. When Loki is awake and with us again, perhaps. But now all I see is the helpless child you wished to let die.” Her eyes filled with tears. “You said that, even knowing what she would do to him, if she found him beyond death.”

He knew who she was talking about. She’d been on both their minds, a secret kept between them more fiercely than even the secret of Loki’s ancestry. Bound by spell, bolstered by ignorance, it was a secret that now loomed with the threat of Loki’s death.

Odin dampened his lips and lowered his hand to tuck the ring carefully in his tunic pocket. “I did not consider that, at the time. I was hasty in my anger, too concerned he was following in her footsteps to bloody conquest.”

She shook her head, not interested in his excuses. “She must loathe him, that you chose a Jotunn changeling child, over her. She will tear him to pieces and make him into her thrall for all time, if she ever gets ahold of him.”

He nodded once, in sad and weary acknowledgment that she was right. “I will not let her, Frigga.”

“I want to believe you,” she whispered, looking at him and blinking back the wet heat in her eyes. “But I did not marry the pitiless conqueror, and I cannot bear to see him return. You may keep my ring until his shadow has been banished once again.”

She turned, and awaited his attempt to call her back, but perhaps he knew that she would not go, so he kept silent. She could feel his eye on her as she reached the door, and she heard him draw breath as if to speak. But he said nothing, so she slipped through the door to return to the one who needed her.

* * *

Thor didn’t have much to say as he gathered his friends and headed for the Bifrost. He explained shortly that they were being sent to Midgard.

He didn’t realize how preoccupied he was behaving until Fandral touched his arm. “Thor? Could you let us know what’s happening? The rumor --”

“Loki was dead, then he wasn’t,” Sif finished for him, “and now I heard you carried him, and he was dying? How does he fare?”

Thor’s mind returned the memory of Loki in his arms, the feel of it all wrong. “He was dying,” he answered, voice rough. “Father said his soul was barely housed in his flesh. The Odinforce brought him back, but he now lies asleep to heal. As best he can, at least,” he added. “We do not know how fully he will recover-- his injuries are severe.”

“How?” Volstagg demanded. “Loki is such a slippery devil, I can’t see how anything caught him at all!”

He meant the words to be jesting, Thor thought so he took no offense, but found nothing to smile at. “One named Banner, who transforms into a giant beast, slammed him into the ground until everything shattered.”

Fandral drew a sharp breath of dismay, while Hogun and Sif exchanged looks.

“Ah,” Volstagg said, now much subdued. “Poor lad.”

Thor cleared his throat, trying to force himself to a less dour mood. “I must retrieve two objects of power I had to leave behind when I carried him home. You four are coming with me to impress upon the mortals that Odin All-Father will not

be refused.”

“And if they do refuse?” Hogun asked.

“We are sent to retrieve them,” Thor said, and that was all the answer they needed.

“Hopefully they’ll be reasonable,” Sif said.

Thor thought of Nicholas Fury and grimaced. He would hope so, but not expect it. “They used the tesseract and drew danger upon themselves. They are curious and quick, but like children, rush into danger, unwise in the ways of the greater worlds.”

“We will follow where you lead us,” Fandral promised and touched the hilt of his sword.

At the Observatory, which was still unfinished, though the mechanism had been replaced, they met Heimdall, standing with his great sword before him. He gave a nod to Thor. “My prince.”

“Father sends us to retrieve the tesseract and Loki’s scepter,” he said. “How close can you get us?”

Heimdall’s golden eyes sought the far distance before flicking back to Thor. “They sit together but are in transit. You will need assistance.”

Thor wanted to swear. The mortals had already taken them and tried to hide them away. “Send us to Tony Stark then.”

“As you wish.” Heimdall turned and stepped up onto the control platform.

It was odd having no roof overhead as the system whirled and the power built, but as the Bifrost snatched him away, he saw the gleam of the city beneath him, and smiled.

The Bifrost slammed them down on the landing platform he’d taken Loki away from, not long ago.

Tony Stark was already there, half in armor, watching from within the glass. He lifted his eyebrows, noticing the warriors accompanying Thor, but waved them to come in.

“Thor, buddy, you brought guests.” He smiled at Sif, who returned it politely. “Come in, welcome to Stark Tower. I’m Tony Stark.”

“Sif,” she nodded her head to him, and he snapped his fingers.

“Right! I know who you are. You were all in New Mexico with Coulson, I saw the report. Well, come in, make yourselves at home, mi casa and all that,” he waved a hand behind him to the large space, including the long bar area.

“What brings you back?” Stark asked Thor. “I figured -- well, Romanoff said that she didn’t think you’d be back for awhile because your crazy ass brother was-- wasn’t going to make it.”

“He still lives,” Thor answered.

“Uh, I guess I’m glad for your sake?” Tony said, “and don’t hammer me if I also hope that you all keep a tighter leash on him. You know, for Earth’s sake.”

Thor cast a glance toward the wide windows and the damaged buildings he could see from this high vantage, and sighed. “You should know, during the examination by our healers, they discovered that before he came to Midgard, some other … entity had broken his bones in what she said was an act of deliberate torture.”

His friends, who had drawn near to listen to the story, exchanged looks at the news and Fandral mouthed, “Torture?”

Stark was less dismayed. He frowned. “Really? He seemed pretty with it, honestly. A bit nuts, but not like he was programmed. Not like what he did to Barton anyway.”

“We don’t know what was done to him. Or why. And he can’t answer. So to that end, my father has dispatched us to retrieve the tesseract and Loki’s scepter, which were left here in your keeping.”

“Well… not in my keeping,” Stark demurred. “I tried to keep them, but SHIELD was not impressed by me saying ‘finders keepers’. They took both, yesterday.”

“I need them back.”

“I’m sure you want them but--”

Thor cut him off. “You don’t understand. The scepter Loki used was not his own, it may have clues to the one who hurt him and directed this attack on your world. Whether Loki _chose_ his path or it was chosen for him, make no mistake, there was another hand that sent him here, Stark.”

“I put a nuke in his face, I think it’s done.”

“No.” The look on Stark’s face at that denial would’ve been funny another time. Volstagg snickered to his left.

Thor explained, “You destroyed the Chitauri strike force, but I do not believe you touched the leader. One able to keep my brother from the sight of Asgard for at least a year would not have been unwise enough to be close to a portal of that size. I do not think it’s done, not at all.”

Stark turned away and blew out a breath. “No? Well, that’s just great.” He wandered to the bar, pulled out a bottle but put it back without opening it. “What is it you want from me?”

“You can find them for us.”

“I probably can,” Stark allowed. “Why don’t you take the glow stick, and leave us the tesseract?”

Thor gave him a look. “You disapproved of Fury’s creation of secret weapons, as I recall.”

“Well sure, before aliens invaded us and wrecked shit! He was right - we’re outgunned against what’s out there.”

Sif glided nearer, drawing Stark’s attention. “Your people rapidly advance, Tony Stark, but you are not ready to face the powers out there. Not yet. The great star empires are kept from your world by the threat of Asgard and your relative insignificance, but if it is known you possess the tesseract, they will come for it.”

“That is what drew Loki here in the first place,” Thor reminded him.

“Great star empires,” Stark murmured, a wistful smile briefly on his lips, before he wiped it away. “All right. You have a point. But only because it makes me mad that they snatched it out from under me.”

Thor patted his shoulder. “Thank you, my friend. Let us search for these artifacts together.”

 


	7. Scepter'd

Thor waited on the highway bridge with his friends hidden down below. Stark’s voice came through the small communications device in Thor’s right ear, “ _Here they come. Half a mile.”_

Thor replied, “ _Understood. We are ready.”_

He was wearing Midgardian clothes for subtlety, but the hammer was hard to disguise, so he held it out of sight behind the railing. Cars passed beneath him but not the ones he wanted to see yet.

It had taken a full day for Stark’s program to find the tesseract. He had kept the five Asgardians in the Tower, reporting to Fury that Thor had returned for the details of the timeline and deaths of the invasion, since it turned out Loki hadn’t died, after all. Thor had folded his arms and looked disapproving, but Stark had shrugged. “Look, Thunderarms, I can’t tell him what you want, what you really really want, so you’re just gonna have to suck it up. Loki’s not returning to Earth anyway, so what difference does it make?”

Thor had to agree with that, especially when he looked out from the balcony of the Tower at the wreckage left by the Chitauri beasts. Hopefully when Loki roused, he would tell them the whole story of what had happened to him. But certainly Thor had no wish to tell the mortals all this, yet.

So the Asgardians had made themselves at home in the tower. They had disposed of several roasted fowl and a great quantity of the Midgardians weak ale, and been entertained by Fandral flirting with Pepper.

But then the monitoring devices had located the tesseract. To Stark’s surprise, it was moving on the highways, taken from New York and headed south on a circuitous route avoiding major highways. But finally Stark had spotted them on a road with few useful exits, and they’d hurried in one of Stark’s helicopters to get ahead of vehicle carrying the tesseract.

There were three vehicles in the SHIELD convoy -- one truck, containing the artifacts, and two black SUVs on either end to guard the truck. Thor would take the truck, two friends would each take care of the cars and their occupants, and Stark would hover above and only interfere if necessary.

Thor hadn’t wanted him involved in the actual battle. The Asgardians would be leaving Midgard as soon as the artifacts were in their possession, and Thor did not want Stark to take all the SHIELD blowback for helping them. Stark pretended not to care about it, shrugging that he could handle it, but when Thor had insisted he keep back, he had accepted the decision.

His voice came over the comm, “ _Asgardian heist movie, ready, in thirty seconds.”_

Thor spied the convoy, heading their way. “I see them.”

Ah, his first plan would work. The lead car left plenty of space, as it passed beneath.

Thor dropped Mjolnir, head down, right in front of the truck.

Mjolnir hit the ground, scarcely a second before the truck hit it.

The heavy armored car slammed into the immobile hammer with a tremendous crash, and the back end flipped upward, right at the bridge where Thor was standing. He ducked, arms up to catch it, as it slammed into the railing and the force of it hurled him back a few steps.

Another car on the bridge squealed its tires, skidding as it tried not to hit him, but Thor paid little attention, as the bridge shook from the impact of the truck.

More slowly than it had flipped up, the truck slammed back down on its wheels

In his ear he heard Stark’s comment, “ _Uh, you didn’t mention your plan was to pancake the armored car, Thor.”_

“It seemed the quickest.”

_“Well, sure, but you know humans are kind of fragile creatures, right? We don’t take rapid deceleration all that well.”_

Thor peered over the railing and recalled Mjolnir to his hand. he could see the airbags had filled up the front seats, and there seemed movement within. “They appear undamaged. I will assault the truck, the rest of you watch the escorts.”

The two escort vehicles had squealed to a stop, the one behind the truck pulling into an awkward angle to avoid hitting the truck. Other cars on the highway also screeched trying to avoid collision. He couldn’t see the lead vehicle, but assumed it was also stopped, having noticed the truck’s accident.

He jumped down, landing with a heavy thud on the truck’s roof and then the ground at the rear.

Two men, wielding weapons leaped out of the car, and fired at him. But Sif captured their projectiles on her shield and she and Fandral stalked forward to handle them.

Thor hit the truck door with Mjolnir. To his surprise, the steel was only dented. Some kind of armor, apparently. That just meant he needed to hit it harder.

He grinned and hurled lightning at it, then hit it again. The locking mechanism surrendered, and then the door caved in.

There were two armed men inside, and they fired at him immediately. The bullets stung, but did not damage him. Throwing Mjolnir at them ended the threat, and he jumped in the truck.

One of the soldiers was trying to hide a case behind his back, as if Thor couldn’t see it. The other pulled a pistol and tried to shoot him at close range; Thor ripped the gun out of his hand and threw it from the truck.

“Enough!” he bellowed at them. “These artifacts belong to Asgard, not to you. And I reclaim them now.”

Stark’s voice came over his comms. “ _Someone called HQ. Quinjet incoming. Hurry up.”_

Thor took the case from behind the one trying to hide it, and didn’t need to open it to sense the tesseract inside. “Where is the scepter?” he asked.

Both stared back at him, trying to be brave and silent, but it wasn’t hard to figure out where it had to be, since it was too long to be put in a case the size the tesseract was nestled within.

Thor pulled the metal box out from under the forward bench and when he found the lid locked in place, slammed it with Mjolnir, too impatient to waste any more time.

The scepter rested within, the crystal in the tip glowing with eerie power. He heard a _whisper_ then, faint but strangely alluring. He couldn’t tell what it was saying, but it seemed to be some kind of promise. No, eagerness? It wanted to battle. It wanted him to crush these two enemies staring at him like dull cattle. Use Mjolnir, crush their skulls…

Blinking he stepped back and shook his head. Not just a source of seidr power then, something else.

He threw the tesseract’s case out of the truck and grabbed the haft of the scepter in his left hand, flinching as a strange power coursed through his hand, and it felt barbed traveling up his arm, pain in its wake.

How had Loki carried this monstrous thing? Thor wanted to be rid of it as soon as possible.

At the door he saw Fandral kicking the other vehicle into the path of two more guards, so they had no choice but duck.

“Sif!” Thor called. “Grab this case. We go home.”

“So soon?” she shouted back, the flat of her blade dropping another guard and with a twirl she caught more projectiles on her shield. “But this is so fun!”

Despite her enjoyment, she disengaged. Hogun and Volstagg trotted back from where they’d been fending off soldiers from the front. “You have it?” Volstagg asked.

“Let’s go. We have what we came for. Heimdall! Open the Bifrost!” he called. He lifted a hand toward the more distant flying form of Man of Iron, knowing Stark could see the gesture of thanks.

His friends gathered together as the Bifrost slammed down and took them all back home.

* * *

Heimdall greeted them with a bow of his head, but his golden eyes fixed on the glowing stone of the scepter.

“You should bring that to the king immediately, my prince,” the Watcher advised in his deep voice.

“What is it, Goldeneyes? You look as if you’ve seen a spirit,” Volstagg jested, his voice echoing off the unfinished walls of the Observatory.

Heimdall did not raise his voice in turn, or look away from the scepter. “Before, it was difficult to see,” Heimdall said, “but here I see it clearly.”

He glanced toward the city and back at Thor. “The All-Father awaits you in the reception hall.”

The others started for the entrance, and Thor turned back, “And Loki?”

“He sleeps.”

Thor thanked him and they headed across the bridge.

Approaching the palace, his footstep hesitated and he lifted the scepter to examine the stone at the tip. It didn’t seem to be doing anything anymore, not whispering or hurting him, so was there really any urgency to take it to Odin? All Odin would do with it was put it in the Treasury, and that seemed to be a waste.

Hogun, who was carrying the tesseract case, frowned at him. “Thor?”

“Is everything all right?” Sif asked.

“Everything is fine,” he snapped. “Why do you ask?”

Sif and Fandral exchanged a glance.

“You stopped, lad,” Volstagg explained.

“I am not your lad,” Thor informed him, then felt a little ashamed he was being so sharp. But he didn’t feel like apologizing. Sometimes Volstagg was a bit too familiar. “Come on, we need to take the tesseract to my father.”

He stomped off, ahead of them, irritated that they were delaying him. He wasn’t sure why he’d even wanted them to come in the first place. What had they done during the battle? He’d retrieved the tesseract and the scepter himself.

In the entrance hall, his grip tightened on the scepter. “Hogun, you take the tesseract to the king with my compliments. I intend to go visit Loki.” The lie rolled off his tongue. No, not a lie-- he would visit Loki, but first he would go to his quarters and find a place to display the scepter properly. Or hide it so Odin All-Father wouldn’t take it.

Sif and Fandral exchanged another look and Fandral said, “I thought we were supposed to bring him both, the scepter and the tesseract?”

“No, we were only supposed to take them from the petty Midgardians,” Thor answered. “The scepter is mine, now. Father can have the tesseract.”

“Yours? What would you want with it?” Volstagg asked, sounding astonished, as if he wouldn’t want it for himself.

Thor narrowed his eyes at his friend. “It’s my war prize.”

“I thought we needed it to find out where it came from,” Sif reminded him. “To learn who hurt your brother.”

Thor thought of Loki, lying so helpless and still in the infirmary, and lowered the scepter. What had he been thinking? They needed to know the full history of the scepter. “Yes, of course.”

“Then you should let the All-Father look at it,” Hogun suggested. “He will be able to tell much more than we can.”

“And help Loki,” Sif added, touching his shoulder. The feel of her hand seemed grounding, and he took a deep breath.

“Yes, we need to do that.”

“Let’s all go to the receiving hall then,” Fandral suggested cheerfully.

Thor didn’t miss Hogun dart a look at the scepter, his dark eyes avaricious as if he was contemplating taking it from Thor. Well, he could _try_ , but against Thor, what chance would he have? It was laughable.

Same with Odin, wasn’t it? He would just have to accept that this belonged to Thor, now.


	8. Odinforce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one's a bit short, but everyone in my family is sick as the proverbial dog this week, so short is the best I can do. Most people are probably crying at the ominosity of the Infinity War Trailer anyway, so.

* * *

In the receiving hall, Odin was sitting on his throne as Thor and his friends entered. He had a tight grip on Gungnir, and beckoned Thor to come closer once they’d passed through the main doors. 

Hogun went first, kneeling, and he set the case on the ground before him. 

“Open it, Hogun, I would see the cause of our troubles,” Odin declared. 

Hogun opened the case, setting the room ablaze in that bright blue-tinged light. “The Space Stone,” Odin murmured and shook his head ruefully. “I should have known leaving it on Midgard was no solution.” His eye sought Thor next and Thor knew to come closer. “I see you carry the other artifact. I would look at it.” 

Thor went no closer. “This is near enough.” 

Odin’s gaze snapped to his, eye bright as one of his raven’s. “Is that so, my son? Bring it to me.”

“I think not,” Thor declared. “You’ll only throw it away. Or leave it to rot in the Treasury. But it is more important than that.” His hand gripped the haft of the scepter in a white-knuckled grip, and he felt the charge in the air, ready for Mjolnir to call and direct the lightning.

The horrified gasps at his disobedience were easy to ignore as the nothing they were. Only Odin mattered in this room.

The king stood and came down the dais steps. He looked old and weak to Thor’s eyes, hunched over and leaning on Gungnir.

“Heimdall sent word of what he saw,” Odin murmured, looking at the jewel at the tip of the scepter. “Your reaction tells me he is correct.” 

Thor took a step toward him, raising the scepter to point it toward Odin. “It is time to step aside, old man. As you intended a year ago, it is my time to rule.”

Odin lowered his head to look at the pointed end of the scepter directed at his abdomen, and he did not seem very alarmed as he raised his eye back to Thor. “And if I choose not, would you fight me?”

“I would have fought you before, to stop you from murdering Loki, lying helpless in his bed,” Thor bit out through teeth that wanted to grind together. He enjoyed the shocked gasp that ran through the room at his words. “And I would fight you now, if you put yourself between me and the throne that belongs to me.” 

“It is not yours yet, my son. And if you do not recover your senses, it may not ever be yours.”

Thor laughed at that, since his senses had never been so clear. To demonstrate his utter contempt, he turned his back on Odin and held both Mjolnir and the scepter high. “It is time for a new king! Time to restore Asgard’s glory! Kneel to me, and we will become warriors again!” 

Strangely his left arm was suddenly having trouble holding Mjolnir, as it became heavier and heavier in his grip until he had to let go. The head thumped to the floor.

Shocked, Thor turned to face Odin again. “You dare--”

“Mjolnir judged you unworthy of holding her,” Odin replied, his tone quite bland as if he weren’t the one who had done it. “Let go of the scepter, Thor. Before you do something you truly regret.” 

“Only not taking you down earlier!” Thor exclaimed and leaped to attack with the blade of the scepter thrust outward to stab his father in the chest.

Gungnir smacked the scepter so the blade passed to his side, without Odin moving his feet. The spear twirled, somehow binding itself to the scepter and twirling it too, until it was wrenched from Thor’s grip and flung across the room. Before Thor could even think to retrieve it, Gungnir found the back of his legs and dumped him to the stone floor. 

The impact jarred something loose, as if some sliver had come free from his skin, and he stared up at Odin, wondering what the hell he had been doing.

Odin called sharply, “No one touch it! I will tend it myself.” 

Gungnir’s point glowed with soft golden light that was nonetheless threatening, pointed at Thor’s chest. “You should practice more with a spear, son. Your brother would have provided a more sporting opponent.” 

Thor grimaced, and his cheeks felt hot. Perhaps if he stayed on the floor it would part beneath him and he would never have to look anyone in this room in the eye again. Both because of what he had tried to do, and because Odin had so handily stopped him. He cleared his throat and tried to make some amends for the first part. “I-- do not know what came over me. I am… woefully sorry, Father.” He forced himself up to one knee and bowed his head. 

Odin touched his hair with his free hand. “You are forgiven, my son. Let this be a lesson to you that you are not omnipotent. Artifacts of power are not trinkets to be treated carelessly.”

While Thor remained kneeling, Odin dismissed everyone else, telling Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral to take the tesseract to the Treasury. 

“Rise, Thor. We must discuss this.” Odin glanced at the scepter, still lying near the wall. Thor’s gaze followed, and had to look away quickly as his chest tightened with a desire to pick it up.

“It is an old artifact, Thor. I recognize it now, though its outer form is changed from when I saw it last. It was always strong and encouraged discord, but it has grown tainted in its years of absence. I am relieved that your association with it was so short.” 

“Loki’s was days. At least,” Thor said, keeping his eyes fixed on Odin so he wouldn’t turn to look at the scepter again.

“Yes,” Odin said, his eye thoughtful on the scepter before turning to look at Thor. “Find your mother, and both of you join me in the family solar. I must shield this before it causes more damage.” 

Thor nodded and held out a hand to call Mjolnir, and take the hammer with him. But the hammer did not move. Frowning, a cold dread crawling up his spine, he tried again, and then walked up to it and wrapped his hand around it to lift it up. 

It didn’t budge.

He stared in consternation, open mouthed in shock, before looking to his father. “Why-- why isn’t Mjolnir coming back to me?”

Odin was halfway to the scepter but turned around and said, “That is for you to discover, Thor. Until then, it will remain a decoration in this hall.”

“But--” he started and had to swallow back the rest of the complaint. He’d tried to kill Odin, so he supposed just saying sorry wasn’t enough.

But it had been the scepter, hadn’t it? He hadn’t wanted to do it; the scepter had made him do it. 

His thoughts were interrupted as Gungnir let out a stream of golden flame that encased the scepter and lifted it off the floor, so Odin didn’t have to touch it at all. Thor watched with a quiet amazement as Odin manuevered the scepter before him like a hand cart toward the far door.

At the arc, Odin looked his way and said, “Tend to your brother, Thor. The answer will come to you.” 

Thor had little choice but bow his head again and go.

tbc...


	9. Mind Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey all, it's been a little while and this is still shorter than I'd like, but at least I'm feeling better so the next chapter should be a bit more timely! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's written comments, I do appreciate them so much, even if I wasn't concentrating well enough to respond! <3 you all!

* * *

_Unworthy_.

Again. But why? He’d apologized, and it had been the scepter making him do it. He’d never attack his father in his right mind.

A treacherous whisper reminded him that he had in fact intended to do that very thing to protect Loki. But Mjolnir hadn’t reacted so it had been the right thing to do then, so it wasn’t that it was always wrong to _consider_ fighting the All-Father.

So why was Mjolnir punishing him now?

But all those thoughts got put aside as he entered the healer’s hall and Loki’s room. Frigga was sitting near Loki’s bed, reading, and Loki appeared unchanged within his cocoon of light.

Thor kissed her cheek, happy to let her smooth his beard at the side of his face with her hand. “How went the quest?” she asked.

“It went well enough. I brought back both.” He thought of what he’d done and decided to mention that part later. “Father would like to see us soon, though. How does Loki fare?”

Her eyes narrowed, letting him know she didn’t miss the hesitation, but she glanced back at Loki. “The same. He stirred a little while ago, and I thought he might be waking. But he settled again.”

Unease pinched his gut. “When I brought the artifacts back?”

Her lips parted and she glanced again at Loki. “Perhaps,” she allowed after a moment’s thought. “I should not like to think so; it would mean he could sense them from afar, even asleep. But it seems possible.”

“Coincidence?” Thor tried in a weak attempt at a jest, but it was enough to make her smile.

“We should be so lucky. Come, Thor, we shall attend Odin and you will tell me all that happened.” She smoothed back Loki’s shorn hair. “Back soon, darling. Keep resting.”

On the way, he told the story of the action to retrieve the scepter and the tesseract, and he was glad to see the guarded double doors to the family wing appear before he reached the embarrassing part of the tale.

The family solar was a spacious room of many columns, featuring an oval table of glossy wood and one wall open to the balcony overlooking the western city.

 Frigga dismissed the servants after they had poured drinks. “What news?”

Odin’s expression, grim when they entered, lightened to see her, as he met them at the table. He’d left Gungnir against the nearest column, taking up a goblet of mead in that hand instead.

“The tesseract is secure in the Treasury,” he announced. “And I took the scepter there myself, as well, and put it under shield.”

“Under shield?” Frigga repeated. “Why?”

Odin glanced at Thor, who felt his cheeks burning at the reminder and the humiliation that he hadn’t brought himself to tell her what he’d done. But he said nothing, merely gestured above the table, so that an image of the scepter formed above it. “Because it is dangerous,” he answered. “Far more dangerous than we had known, perceiving it from a distance. Close to it--” He used a finger as if to snip the stone free of the haft and the image expanded of the pale blue gleaming stone. “It’s clear that what Loki carried was, in fact, the Mind Stone.”

Thor stared at it. _The Mind Stone_? One of the infinity gems, like the tesseract? He had held one of them?

He had held one and it had taken control of him in a breath. Humiliation rushed through him, and he lowered his eyes and then the rest of him into his chair at the table, feeling weak and cowed. No wonder Odin had warned him against taking power artifacts lightly.

Frigga gasped in dismay. “But -- no -- the Mind Stone is not blue, that cannot be.”

Odin shook his head, beard rustling. “The case for it is changed, from what we knew, but it is the Stone. There can be no doubt. Worse, the power of the stone has merged with taint in its crystal housing.” He grimaced. “It is now malicious in its intent.”

He didn’t look at Thor at all, as he said, “I felt it myself, a whisper in my mind of glory and power. I put it under shield, to keep it contained.”

“The Mind Stone,” Frigga whispered and seated herself in her chair, staring at the slowly rotating image, before bestirring herself from dark thoughts for what was most important. “How did Loki acquire such a thing? It has been lost for millennia.”

“That we will not know until he wakes. But,” he leaned against the table, one hand flat on its surface, and gave a soft sigh, “it does suggest another reason our enemy would torture Loki, if he carried such a prize. They would wish it back.”

Thor shook his head, still confused. “He held it, and I think did little with it that he could not have done himself, without it. He did turn Selvig and Barton and a few others into his minions with it, but surely such power could control thousands, not the paltry few he used?”

Frigga frowned at him. “What do you mean, Thor?”

“I wonder if he knew what he held,” Thor answered, then reconsidered, remembering the argument on the Helicarrier before the attack had come. “Or perhaps his plan was more subtle than brute force. It did sow discord among us and when Banner took it, he would not have relinquished it, without the attack’s intervention. But how much more could it have done and did not? As short a time as I held it, it… clouded the mind,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “It was so much stronger than I expected.”

Frigga laid her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. “You both are strong, Thor, but not invulnerable. Such an artifact is difficult to fight, even for one aware of its power; unaware, you had little chance.”

“And Loki? If he was unaware of what it was, how little chance did he have?” Thor insisted, looking to Odin.

“More than you,” Odin answered. “His magical defenses are far more skilled.”

“If he were in position to use them,” Frigga reminded him.

Odin nodded acknowledgment of their point and let out a sigh. “I suppose it matters little, if he knew what he held or not -- his holding it seems part of the greater plan. Perhaps it was to have him turn the stone's might against us, but only unexpected severity of his defeat stopped that from happening. We will learn the answers when he wakes. In any case, Asgard must now protect two Infinity Stones from all those who would misuse them.”

“And find this enemy who threatens us,” Thor declared, “hurt Loki, and attacked Midgard.”

“I have set Heimdall the task of watching the Chitauri. Their movement after defeat may tell us more of their allies. But still…” Odin trailed off, his single eye distant with thought, “much remains in the shadows, hidden from all Sight. This is no accident.”

“Our enemy knows us,” Frigga said.

“Fears us,” Thor added, clenching a fist. “Or must be made to fear us again.”

“Oh, he fears us, my son. We possess two Gems now. I cannot believe that was the desired outcome. Our enemy will move more carefully now and regroup, before challenging two Gems and the might of Asgard."

That sounded promising to Thor, before remembering that this enemy had thought nothing of hurting Asgard's prince, and had remained unseen the whole time. The only reason they knew the enemy was out there at all, was because of the harm he'd done to Loki. That was not the act of someone who feared Asgard.

A glowing blue light began to blink in front of Frigga, interrupting what more they could have said. She touched the light. “Yes?”

Eir’s face appeared, and she reported, “All-Mother, Prince Loki is waking. Do you wish me to send him back to sleep, or allow him to wake?”

Frigga glanced at the image of the glowing stone, and she licked her lips before instructing, “Let him wake, Eir. He was restless earlier; perhaps he has something he wishes to tell us.” She waved a hand through the healer’s face, breaking the connection, and admitted, “I hope it is that, and not that he senses the Gems.”

“He always did dislike lying abed doing nothing,” Thor jested lightly. “But give him a book and he wouldn’t stir for a flock of dragons.”

Her lips twitched in a smile. “I hope that remains true.”

Thor followed her more slowly, but still faster than Odin, as she hurried back the way they’d come. At the door to Loki's room, she was waiting for them, and held up a hand to stop them from entering. "I will go in, myself. You two may watch on the monitors."

"But, Mother--"

Her expression was implacable. "No, Thor. You know what Eir said, and he does not need you both... looming over him. Watch from afar, and I will tend him." 

The door opened just wide enough to let Thor glimpse Loki, still enwrapped in his golden light, before it closed again behind her.


	10. Waking

Frigga slipped inside Loki’s treatment room, where Eir and two attendants had already prepared him for waking by lowering him down to the bed and shrinking the restraining field to support only the areas that needed it most: hips to ankle, left arm, and ribs. His head rested on the mattress, a bandage cushioning the wound at the side. 

His skin still held that worrisome pallor, indicating all was not well within, and his breathing was shallow and halting through parted lips.

But he was waking -- Frigga could see the fingers of his right hand twitching, as she spread the sheet over his lower half. 

His eyelashes fluttered next, letting Frigga glimpse his eyes beneath as he pulled himself to consciousness. Before his eyes opened though, his brows drew together and he made a soft sound in his throat as he became aware of his body again.

Frigga touched the tablet to increase the blockers and a new silence fell while he relaxed. She thought he might return to sleep, but after a some shallow breaths, his eyelids fluttered and opened. They only opened about halfway, before he shut them again tightly, and he whimpered. .

Before Frigga could do anything, Eir ordered, “Lights low.” The room’s lights dimmed to half, and Loki cracked open his eyes again to check that they were safer now. 

He looked up, tired awareness back, and she had to smile, glad to see him awake at last. She bent nearer so he could see her without moving his head. “Hello, my son.” 

His lips parted thought it took a moment to find his voice and whisper hoarsely, “Amma?” 

Her heart ached and her eyes suddenly burned with an impulse to cry at Loki’s childhood name for her, even as she tried to keep smiling at him. “Yes, sweetie. I’m here.” 

“It hurts,” he whispered. 

She pressed her lips together, upset that he was still in pain even after the neural blockers were at the level they were. “I know. You were injured, but you’ll heal and be well, son,” she reassured him. She took his good hand in hers, relieved when he was able to grip her fingers lightly. 

His gaze left her to wander up to the ceiling, and she let him take his time. If he wanted to fall back to sleep, it would probably be best for him, but she still wondered what had pulled him awake. 

His eyes were following the line of the roof support when he saw her again. His brow furrowed in some confusion, but he took a moment more to voice it, “Amma? What hurt me?”

She hesitated to answer for a moment, wondering what was the best explanation for him right now. Simpler was better, if he didn’t recall it. Eir had warned that the head injury had likely taken his memory of that, it had simply not been stored at all that the Banner creature had hurt him.

“In battle, little one.” His frown deeper as he tried to remember it. Her free hand brushed his forehead to ease the tension there. “Don’t worry about not recalling it. It may come back later, when your body is healed. But tell me, what is the last thing you remember?” 

His eyes slid to the side, frown returning, as he tried to remember. Frigga caressed the back of his hand with her thumb. 

His eyes almost closed as he thought. Frigga waited patiently, knowing his mind might find it difficult to sort through it yet.

“Vanaheim?” he said, tone rising to uncertainty.

She tried not to react, keeping her touch a constant soothing stroke, even as everything inside her froze up. Vanaheim. She had expected Midgard, if not the battle with the one who hurt him. But Loki hadn’t been to Vanaheim in _years_.

“What happened on your trip to Vanaheim, little one?” she prompted, hoping if he thought about it, it would prompt later memories. Or perhaps, somehow, he’d visited there after his fall from the Bifrost.

But no. IT was worse.

“I -- we went to Hogun’s family, a… wedding?” he answered slowly. “And then… Sif? Something happened with Sif?”

Luckily he wasn't looking at her to see the alarm that must have shown on her face, before she cleared it away. Nonetheless she felt she a cold lump of dread form in her chest. She had no idea what he was remembering. A wedding and something happened to Sif afterward? "Anything else?" she prompted carefully. 

He continued, his voice growing ragged in greater confusion, "Sif... did something? Said something? No, someone said something to her, some insult...or they attacked her? There was a fight? There were many of them, but only a few? I … don't recall... It's all confused... Why can’t I remember?" He tried to lift his head and his skin went ashen. 

Gasping, he choked as he reflexively dry heaved. She reached for him, frantically, to prevent him from moving further. "No, Loki, stop, you need to stay still." She eased his head back down to the pillow and touched the control to give him another blocker. 

His breathing was unsteady, and he bit his lip, brows knitted, and his hand trembled in hers uncontrollably. "Everything hurts so much," he whispered, his whole face naked with pain and confusion, and tears leaked from his eyes.

She brushed them away. Ordinarily her proud peacock of a son would be embarrassed to cry in front of her, but he wasn't strong enough to care about it. "Oh, darling, I know, it breaks my heart to see you hurt. Close your eyes, let the medicine take you away," she murmured, caressing his cheek with her fingertips. "You will be better soon." 

When his eyes finally shut and he relaxed, she kissed his brow and cast a gentle comfort spell to send him into peaceful sleep. She didn't let her expression falter until the door had closed behind her. 

Her eyes met Thor’s and she read the same dismay in his that she felt. He wrapped his strong arms around her tightly to comfort her. She let herself lean into him for a moment, drawing calming breaths again.

When she pulled back, he let her go and she glanced at Odin, whose eyebrows were frowning deeply as he looked again at the monitor.

“Vanaheim,” she repeated with a heavy breath. “That was… ten years ago?” she questioned Thor. “I recall nothing about a wedding in your tale, but I remember how those brigands set on Sif and you defeated them? Is that what he recalls?”

He hesitated, glanced at Odin and licked his lips, before shaking his head. “He confuses two visits-- the one for the wedding was more than a century ago.” He turned his head to look at Eir. “Is that possible?” he asked. “That he has lost so much?”

“You heard him, my prince. I think he was speaking the truth.” 

“Yes, yes, I’m not saying he’s lying,” Thor corrected. “I just -- I don’t know what -- What do we do?”

“Do you think this loss is temporary?" Odin asked, overriding Thor's distressed question.

Eir faced him, her tone more businesslike. "While I do not doubt his memory of the battle that injured him will not be recovered, there is no way to know about the rest.”

"I need to know what happened in the past year, since he was lost," Odin insisted.

She folded her hands and returned his look calmly. “It is early days, All-Father. This will require further testing before I can make any pronouncements of whether those memories are lost permanently or not.” Eir frowned and cast a glance through the narrow window in the door where Loki slept again. "But I will say, the confusion of those memories concerns me – as if there is more than loss. But as the swelling decreases, we will see what is recovered.”

Thor stirred beside Frigga as if he wanted to speak, but settled again into silence. She patted his arm, trying to reassure him and herself. 

"I will scan him again and keep watch. I suggest,” she addressed them all, “that you do not do or say anything to suggest to him that he has such a gap in his memories at this time. It may make him... distraught." 

Frigga nodded, feeling she was distraught enough for all of them. 

Eir gave her a small encouraging smile. "Still, I would remind you that he woke on his own. He remains with us. This is in itself a sign that he wishes to live, so keep that in your thoughts. He chose to return." 

That did help ease her heart a little bit. Not remembering some of the past, though distressing, was still much improved from dying or not waking.

His voice more uncertain than Frigga had heard in a long time, Odin asked, “Is there something to be done to help him recover his memories or heal more quickly? Some use of power, or spell perhaps?”

“I think not now,” Eir said. “As the damage heals, it may reveal somewhere such aid would be of use, but for now, time would be best.”

Odin’s shoulders slumped on hearing that, and Frigga felt hardly less disappointed. There would be no magic fix, not for this. 

Eir gave them nods and returned to the observation area, leaving the family in the waiting room alone. 

Silence fell, each wrapped in thoughts and emotions to weighty to express. 

“There must be something we can do. That someone can do,” Thor said. “There are mind-readers amond the alfar, perhaps one of them can fix--”

Frigga set a hand on his arm and squeezed. “You know Loki would never agree to such an invasion.”

“Then we do it without his agreement; he will thank us in the end,” Thor declared.

“We will not,” Odin snapped. “Have you forgotten the Mind Gem and its foul work so soon?” 

“That is not the same thing!” Thor squared up against Odin, ready to argue, but Frigga intervened.

“It is an evil thing, Thor. I would not trust any Ljosalfar who agreed to it.”

Thor turned to her and said, his voice more plaintive, “Mother, we have to help him, somehow.” 

“We will,” she said, “by being his family and supporting his recovery, as long as he needs us. But throwing ourselves at quick-fixes and spells is not the answer, my son.” She flicked her eyes at Odin, including him in that. 

He nodded. “Of course, you are right. Yet to have all the power of Asgard at my command and be unable to do anything….” he trailed off, letting out a disgruntled heavy breath. “Since there will be no easy answers from Loki, I will examine the scepter more thoroughly, and see what more may be learned.” 

“Carefully,” she cautioned.

He waved a hand in acknowledgment and took his leave.

Frigga moved to the niche that held the beverage service and poured herself a cup of water, but she didn’t drink as she watched Loki sleep on the image projected on the wall. He was resting comfortably at least, though remembering his tears made her wish she were drinking something stronger. 

"Maybe it is better," Thor said finally. "That he not remember. He seemed like his old self, that madness I saw in him is gone, Mother. Perhaps this is… a strange blessing." 

She shook her head. As much as she might like the convenience of it, it was not right, nor very practical. "And then he finds out, again. Angry that we hid it _again_. Where does it end, my son?” She sighed and thought of other secrets, still kept. “He will have to learn the truth again, if he has forgotten it.”

"But not soon." 

"No, not soon. Not until he is well enough." She looked into the water, heart heavy. “We will find out what he remembers and then help him with what he does not, even the difficult parts. And perhaps this time the truth will be easier.” 

This was why she’d never told him before. How could she tell him the truth? One secret led to another and another behind that one, until all would be exposed. 

But it was time all the windows were opened and the truth set free. Her sons deserved no less, after Loki had paid such a price for the lies. She just hoped they would both forgive their parents for hiding the real story.


	11. Second Waking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note to explain that right now I'm house hunting in my free time, which is leaving me exhausted, so updates are both slower and shorter than I'd like, but I'm not giving up!

* * *

Frigga returned the next morning early, bringing tea and some needlework, to keep Loki company while he slept. 

Eir confirmed that he was healing well. The swelling had decreased for his head injury, and the bruising of his internal organs from being slammed so violently was likewise improved. With that easing she was hoping he’d be able to drink something when he woke. 

He looked better to Frigga’s discerning eyes – less pale, less fragile – though his short hair still looked strange and made his face too thin. Day by day, hour by hour, he was improving. It wasn’t as fast as it should have been, given his blood and power, but as Eir had explained, sometimes their healing was simply overwhelmed. 

He stirred a little while later, blinking himself slowly alert. The lights were dim, in consideration of the ongoing pain in his head, and even that seemed bright as he squinted against it. 

But he saw her there and his lips lifted at the corners in a tired approximation of a smile, and seeing it lifted her spirits. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” she greeted, keeping her voice soft. “How are you feeling?” 

“Head hurts,” he answered hoarsely, after unwisely trying to move it to look at her more directly. She stood up instead and smiled down at him. 

“Yes, you were injured,” she reminded him. 

“What happened?” he asked, frowning, trying to remember and obviously coming up blank. “A dragon?” 

He didn’t remember what she’d told him before. She rubbed her thumb across the back of his hand, and shook her head with a bit of a smile. “No, not that. But it was a battle.” 

“Oh.” He noted her alarm, though she tried to bury it. “You told me that before, I think? I do remember,” he reassured her. “It’s just… vague.” 

She was a bit relieved that he remembered waking up yesterday. “It’s all right. You were badly injured, little one. Take it slow.”

He listened and his gaze wandered up to the ceiling and back down to her, wheels turning slowly in his mind. “This battle – Did I win?”

Her smile widened and she chuckled, shaking her head at him. “You are definitely your father’s son. I wish I could say yes, but I don’t think this is winning, darling.” The smile faded as she looked at his face. “You took a hard blow to the head and Eir wants to check your memories and skills, all right? Can you answer some questions for me?” 

“All right,” he answered, frown tightening between his brows at the implication there was something wrong with his mind.

“Even if we find something, it could be temporary,” she reassured him. “But we need to check.” 

She started the questions with what he remembered of the past – general things from childhood and moving more forward. There seemed to be no gaps which was reassuring, even when she asked about the wedding in Vanaheim a century ago, he didn’t mix it with any other event. 

It was when they reached more recent times the problem rose-- he still remembered nothing past the trip to Vanaheim about ten years before, when Sif had been insulted and attacked, and they’d fought and ultimately had the victory over the attackers. 

“What about your father stepping away from the throne, and crowning Thor to rule?” she asked.

Loki let out a choked laugh, wincing in pain after and holding very still until it eased. “You are trying to trick me, Mother. There was talk of that, but Father would never be so foolish as do it. Thor is too reckless. He thinks of battle and adventure, fighting. Nothing more.” 

He closed his eyes, resting, and didn’t see as she bit her lip. So that was confirmation he didn’t recall the coronation.

“Do remember how to form a flame?” she asked. 

He turned his good hand, palm up, opening his eyes, but she hurriedly reached over to grip that hand in hers. “No, don’t make it. I only wanted to know you remember how. No need to spend your energy on something so frivolous.” 

“I remember,” he confirmed. He let his hand relax beneath hers, but his frown tightened. “Did father really crown Thor? That seems big – to forget… How much don’t I remember?”

She lifted his hand to her lips, regrettingher question. She should have been more careful. “Just a little, sweetheart. There was no coronation, though, you were right. You’ll learn the rest in time, as you improve.” 

He didn’t buy it. “Something’s wrong with me. That’s why you are so worried.”

“I’m worried because you were hit on the head hard enough to damage your skull, little one. You nearly slipped away from us. Whatever gaps you may have are nothing compared to that.” 

He tried to move his other arm, the one restrained while the bones reknitted. It was as if some awareness of the rest of his body cracked open, and he tried to move his legs, too. But he couldn’t with the field wrapping them. His eyes went wide with a sudden terror. “I can’t move – I can’t – my legs--”

She leaned forward, hand on his brow to try to keep him from moving his head, hushing him as his breath grew ragged. “No, no, it’s all right. They’re immobilized to heal, it’s all right – shhh, it’s nothing permanent.” 

She managed to reassure him back to calm, but the distress exhausted him so his eyelids were sinking, as his breathing smoothed out. He was pale again, his good hand lightly on his chest as if to hold himself together. 

“You need rest,” she coaxed him gently. “Go back to sleep.”

He forced his eyes open. “No, I want to – know – what….” But his eyes sank shut and he was asleep before he finished the question. 

Once she was sure he was deeply asleep again, she moved her chair back, and left the room to relax, as well. It tore at her to see him in pain, and then to see the fear that his legs were immobile had hurt even more. 

Thor was waiting outside, his expression morose though he tried to perk up when he saw her. “He seemed a bit better?” 

“Yes,” she agreed. “And the memory loss seems confined to about ten years, which is … better than I feared. He may still remember.” She thought about it, and pursed her lips. “It’s odd that battle on Vanaheim is where his memories stop. Was it significant in some way?” she asked Thor. 

He gave an uncomfortable shrug and went to pour himself a drink. “Nothing I know of.” 

“Perhaps it is simply the last exciting thing he recalls, later memories blend too seamlessly with the mundane here in Asgard. But nothing of Jotunheim, nothing of Midgard…. All is as it was, then, to him. I think you should visit when he awakens again."

Thor lifted his cup and turned it idly in his hands. "If you think it will not upset him. What if seeing me reminds him of what happened?"

"It may," she admitted, "But I think it unlikely right now. He is still too weak. And he will notice if you never appear." 

Loki was also going to notice that Odin never visited him, but there was nothing she could do about that. He seemed to remember enough that he was unlikely to ask her about why his father would not visit him.

"But try not to let on that his memory gap is so large. He will push to find what he’s forgotten, and I fear touching near the truth will reveal it to him, and he’s not ready yet.”

Thor nodded and looked miserable. "If you think he wants to see me... Even without his memory he thinks so little of me."

Ah, that was what had him so unhappy. He’d heard his brother’s harsh judgment of him, stripped of its usual veil of jest and argument. She crossed to Thor. "You misunderstand. He has always thought highly of you, that is why when you fall short he is so terribly disappointed." He flinched and looked down, ashamed. She caressed his cheek. "You are wiser now than you were then. He will learn that, too. Wisdom is never bought with silver, my darling, only tears." 

He shook his head, resisting. “No. It’s not true. Father took Mjolnir away again, Loki almost died – this is all my fault.” 

“Your father did what?” she asked shocked. How had neither of them managed to _not mention_ this to her? 

Thor swallowed hard. “When I was carrying the scepter, I – I tried to take the throne from him. I was going to fight him for it. And now I hear Loki say the same thing, that I’m not-- I’m not worthy.” 

“Oh, my sweet son, while no doubt your father has a lesson in mind, or perhaps punishment for this reckless act, but you can’t let a magical hammer determine your worth. Mjolnir is but a tool. Carrying it does not make you good, anymore than Loki’s ancestry made him bad, as he believed. You are more than wielder of Mjolnir; perhaps it’s time you remember who you are without it, while your brother remembers who he is.” 

Thor hesitated, mulling it over, and then shot a look at the monitor displaying Loki’s sleeping form. “I want to be a better brother,” he murmured. 

She smiled, charmed by the determined jaw and set to his shoulders as if he was going to make everything fine by sheer force of his will. "You've always been a good brother." 

To her surprise Thor shook his head, looking a bit pained. "Not always."

She frowned, curious, when he seemed to have something specific in mind, but didn't ask. Thor would tell her if he wanted; she had to remind herself he was a man grown now and could make his own choices. “If you feel that way, then begin when he wakes. He does love you, you know.” She patted his shoulder. “You’re brothers, and you’ve always been stronger together than apart. Be there for him.” 

“I will, Mother.” 

“I’m going to find a book to read to him. If he wakes in the meantime, go on in,” she instructed and slipped outside the waiting room. First she would fetch the book, and later have a discussion with Odin about what he was thinking, taking Mjolnir from their son. 

tbc...


	12. Better Things

 

Thor padded into Loki’s room as quietly as he could, so he wouldn’t disturb Loki. Sitting on the chair beside the bed, Thor reached out to touch Loki’s hand, but pulled back to only watch.

Thor tried to match the shallow, slow breaths, falling into a sort of hazy calm. He rested his head on his hands, wondering how long it would take for Loki to be well again. He’d need patience, since Loki was a poor patient healing or ill at the best of times, and this was certainly not the best of times. He was stubborn and deceptive about his progress, always wanting to be stronger and fitter than he was. None of them liked being ‘weak’, but with Loki it had become something deeper. Thor could look back and see it now -- it wasn't just the stubborn pride of a little brother always chasing after his bigger, stronger sibling, but the gnawing fear that if he wasn't strong enough, no one would like him anymore.

 _I should have helped, but I made it worse,_ Thor knew now, with some despair. Echo of his previous words came back to his ears, “ _We fought together, played together, do you remember none of that?”_

Now those words held new meanings, not just because Loki had lost part of his memory, but because Thor had a better understanding of what he’d been telling Loki to remember.

_I will be better, Loki, I swear to you. I know what snapped, and I swear I’ll fix it, brother. Please just give me a chance to show you._

A hoarse voice interrupted his dark thoughts. "Thor?"

Lifting his head, he saw Loki was looking at him with drowsy curiosity.

"You awaken!" Thor exclaimed and he had to smile, because Loki wasn't looking at him with those glinting, mad, lost eyes, but with the gaze Thor remembered from years ago before it had all broken.

"You’re here. I thought you might be hurt, too," Loki murmured.

"I am well," Thor reassured him. "This is the first time you have been awake to see me. But I am here often."

"Oh." Loki's gaze drifted absently to the ceiling and his eyes closed again. Thor set his hand gently over Loki's and tucked their fingers together. Loki's hand lay limp in his, he was asleep.

"Loki?" he asked softly, wondering if he would wake again.

Loki's eyes opened and wandered back to him, and the mild surprise when he saw Thor was a blow to the chest. "Thor? You came?" he asked, as if he didn't remember seeing Thor a moment ago.

"Always, brother," he whispered, lump in his throat.

It was both blessing and curse that Loki accepted being called ‘brother’, when he’d rejected it so angrily not long before. At first Thor hadn’t understood why he was saying such a mad thing, now he wished he might hear it said again, since the only reason he wasn’t saying it now was because he didn’t remember finding out the secret.

Loki's eyes, the only color in his face, went to Thor's. "Am I dying?"

Shocked and appalled by the question, asked with only interest not any alarm, Thor hastened to reassure him, "No, no, Loki, you are hurt but you will be better."

"Oh. You look so upset.”

"It's hard to see you in such pain," Thor said, and tried to smile in reassurance. "We all worry for you."

"What happened?" Loki asked, frowning. "Nobody will tell me what hurt me."

Thor smoothed the back of Loki’s hand with his thumb, watching that instead of letting Loki see any of the truth in his face. "I … am not supposed to say. Eir says we must not bring the memory back until you are strong enough to deal with it."

Loki turned that one over his mind - slower than he would have normally, but still the same dry wit emerged, "It was that terrible?"

"It … will haunt my dreams for many, many years to come," Thor confessed roughly. He wished he had been there to stop Banner, but a part of him was also glad he had not had to watch it happen, only come upon the aftermath. "I feared you were dead."

"Can't die. Who else … tell you … you're a moron?" The teasing insult was welcome, reassuring that this was still Loki, even if the faintness of his voice and the effort to find enough breath to speak was difficult to hear.

Thor chuckled, though his voice caught on it at the end with grief, for how close it had been. "Only you." He bent to rest his forehead on their joined hands, reminded of that year he had believed Loki gone into the void and then come out nearly a stranger, lost to him. But now his brother was back, and Thor needed to find a way to keep him this time. He had to heal Loki's heart before it shattered so utterly, to chase away the shadows, and hold him here.

"There must… have been a spell," Loki murmured, musing aloud. "To weaken me. Or something very... strong….”

Thor lifted his head sharply. "Stop. Stop thinking about it," he ordered and then in a more pleading voice, added, "Loki, please. I know you are curious, but trust me that it’s not time yet. Put it aside. Think of… peaceful things. Better things."

Loki didn't argue. "Like?"

"The river," Thor offered, knowing the river was one of Loki's favorite things. "The archives and the scent of the books you love so dear... The sky and the fields and the mountains, all those things about our home that are beautiful and fair…" He watched as Loki's eyes closed, as the quiet words lulled him back to sleep. Thor stopped talking, but didn't yet let go of Loki's hand, cradling it in his own, glad that this hand at least was unhurt.

He’d almost lost Loki twice now, and he promised, not again.

* * *

Frigga ordered a family dinner for herself, husband, and eldest son, and at the appointed time, she waited for them to arrive.

Surprisingly, Odin was first. She barely let him get inside when she demanded, “Mjolnir. Why?”

He stilled and then turned to face her, before sitting in his chair with a sigh. “It was no doing of mine.”

“How can that be?” she asked, frowning at him. “You took it from him. You can give it back.”

“No.” He shook his head. “The charm lingers from his banishment. It found him unworthy for seeking the throne under the thrall of the scepter, and it still does. I think I know _why_ Mjolnir refused to return to him, but it was not me, but rather Thor, who set the new requirement. Only he can undo it.”

Thor had judged himself unworthy, and Mjolnir was following his lead, that was what Odin was saying. She let herself down into her own seat and looked at Odin across the table, for letting out a soft breath of resignation. She could not blame him for what was not his doing. “What a tangle.”

“Indeed. Though it is probably past time he learn to do without it.”

“Past time for so many things,” she murmured, and met his gaze. “They will have to know about the past.”

“No.”

She laid her hands flat on the table and kept her voice calm. “Think of how close Laufey came to your death.”

“Because Loki--”

“-- did not know,” she interrupted, forcefully, to get to the point. “He didn’t know the full consequence, because you have not told him. Or Thor. They must know. Or Thor will inherit a war he knows nothing about and a throne he cannot keep.” She softened her voice. “Odin, the time draws near. You cannot put it off forever.”

For the first time, he didn’t react with a fierce denial of the point. Perhaps he was finally recognizing the foolishness in keeping the truth from their boys. They would have to deal with the Realms when Odin was gone, and if he left them unprepared, they would suffer for it.

In fact, he nodded once in agreement, beard rustling against his surcoat, but didn’t speak, as the sounds of Einharjar pulling themselves to attention outside the doors announced Thor’s arrival.

He entered, coming to kiss her cheek. “Loki was awake, briefly,” he announced. His brow furrowed with worry. “He asked again about what hurt him. We’re going to have to tell him _something_ or he’ll worry at it like a hound on a bone. _But,_ he did call me a moron, so he’s coming back to himself.” He seemed pleased by the insult, which made her shake her head.

“That is good news.” She added with a smile, “I think. Though I wish you both would stop such teasing.”

“But he still lacks his memory of the past decade?” Odin asked, and Frigga’s smile slipped away as Thor nodded.

“We didn't discuss it, but he spoke to me as if it were then," Thor confirmed. "There was no trace of knowing the truth of his blood."

Restlessly, Odin stood, paced to the window, and turned. "What happens when he remembers that?" Odin asked. "I fear he will persist in his rage-fueled vendetta, and put others at risk again."

"Will he?" Frigga asked, her tone thoughtful. "First, we do not know that he will ever remember. Eir says it is just as likely those memories are unmoored by the physical damage and he will never recover them. But more importantly, for now, we have … an opening."

Husband and son looked at her curiously, as she stood up, too anxious to remain seated when the other two stood. "He believes it’s still ten years ago." She paced to the end of the table to stand where Loki's chair had once been placed before they had feared him dead in his fall from the Bifrost. She would have it removed from storage and returned to its place. "He knows there is a problem with his memory, and he must suspect a gap we have not admitted. Still, in his mind, no time will have passed since then. There is a void. He does not remember the coronation which spurred him to bitter fury, nor the trip to Jotunheim that followed, and he does not remember the truth he stumbled on then and shattered his sense of himself. Those things have not happened, for him. But we know. We know where the cracks are, and now we have a chance to heal them and make him stronger. So that when he learns the truth from us, it will not be such a blow."

Thor agreed, but she could see Odin’s doubts still lingered, that telling Loki was a wise choice, even now. Or perhaps doubting that they could manage the aftermath this time, when it had gone so poorly before.

She curled her hands around the back of her seat, trying to explain. "This... horror, did not spring out all at once. We -- all of us – closed our eyes and did not look behind the face he presented us, to see the shadow growing within his heart. Already, with the medicine and pain loosening his tongue, he has admitted more turmoil than he ever revealed then. And this gives us opportunity to show him where he errs, and to manage where he has just complaint."

"’Just complaint’," Odin repeated. "He has none."

"Of course he does," she returned sharply.

Thor held himself very still before he straightened in his chair, as if he'd made a decision. "He was right that I was not ready," Thor said. "You refused to listen to him. And he was also right that only a mistake as great as Jotunheim would have proven it to you. Because," he hesitated and drew a deeper breath of resolve, "He knew the truth of that last visit to Vanaheim, and you did not."

“The truth?” Frigga repeated, confused, as Odin's frown deepened in disapproval. "What we know of that trip is not the truth?”

“What is the truth?” Odin demanded, in a tone that suggested Thor not refuse to answer.

Shame-faced now, Thor looked down at the wood of the table before him, shined to a high gloss. "I do not understand why he remembers nothing past it, but… I know why he is confused about what happened.” He didn’t speak for a long moment before inhaling a deep breath and saying, “Because what we said happened and what actually happened were … different. Sif was insulted, yes, but she handled it. It was I who provoked the boorish warrior and his friends to a fight, in spite of Loki's counsel to let it be. I called him coward for not wanting to fight them. It was no glorious fight, Father. They were overmatched from the start. Two died. After it was ended, Loki said we owed their families, and I said no.”

It seemed that the confession was finished, but Odin’s eye held his, and Thor added, not looking at anyone, only the table, “I told him, if he revealed the truth to anyone, I would spread the tale that he had run away from the battle, and we would see who was believed."

"Oh, Thor," Frigga exclaimed softly, profoundly disappointed. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to make the battle more than it was. It was a rout, but I wanted a _story_. Something exciting and glorious," he admitted, lips twisting with disgust at himself.

Odin slammed a hand on the table, making Thor jump and finally face him. "So not only was your tale of the battle of Vanaheim a lie of self-aggrandizement," Odin growled, expression severe, "but you forced Loki to support it by threatening his reputation?"

Thor continued, with some awkward confession, "He was angry, but I apologized after, and he seemed to let it go. But now I think he didn’t."

"No. Of course not." She knew her youngest too well to think he would forgive such an attack on his vulnerability so easily. "You showed him what you were willing to do, and he could never unlearn that, could he?"

She looked at Odin. "And yet you say he has no just complaint? For not only did you swallow this tale and laud Thor for his victory, but from thence sprung your desire to make him king sooner. Based on a _lie._ "

Odin took a moment, before he nodded once and glowered at Thor. “When he is ready to listen, you will inform him of the truth of the matter, and that your story was, in fact, only a story. You will alleviate any confusion he has on this,” Odin ordered. “Is there any other confession you wish to make?”

Thor swallowed. “No, Father. Though I can now see where I behaved less as a brother, than I should have.” He inhaled and lifted his chin. “Though you should ponder your own part of this, and that you were less of a father to him than you were to me. And if you don’t try to correct that before you tell him the truth of his begetting, he will not forgive you.”

Frigga saw the sharp words rise in Odin, a stiffening of offense that he had no need of Loki’s forgiveness, but the words passed, unspoken. His shoulders slumped again. “What is there to do?” Odin asked. ‘What is done, is done.”

Her lips parted, shocked by what sounded like an admission of defeat. She reached across the table to take his hand. “Be his father, now. While you still can.”

Odin looked up at her, brows contracting. “And do what? He has listened to nothing I say for at least two hundred years.”

“Perhaps because you never tell him anything he wants to hear,” Thor pointed out. “He is a great sorcerer, Father, and I remember few words of praise.”

Frigga shook her head, since that wasn’t the point, not really. She squeezed Odin’s hand. “You can mend this distance between you, I know it. He wants your attention, to know he is your son, not only your subject. It cannot be so difficult to give him that, is it?”

He couldn’t admit that it was, since he hadn’t for so long, but he didn’t try to argue with her about it either, so she took that for his agreement and withdrew her hand. He would have to choose his own way forward with Loki, though she thought he understood the wisdom of closing the distance between himself and Loki.

She wandered to the outside window, thinking of Thor’s tale and what it might mean for Loki’s memory.

"I think it is not an accident that Loki’s mind has stopped his memories there. He knows, somewhere within, that was the moment where all went awry. While the rest of his body is damaged, his mind holds there, free of the despair and anger that followed.”

“When I broke the bond between us,” Thor murmured, sounding miserable. “I was such a fool. I thought so little of that day, and I had no idea it was so important to him.”

“Perhaps on its own it wouldn’t have been,” she said. “But it wasn’t alone. A slow drip will fill a bowl, too, just more slowly.” She returned to the table, setting both hands on Thor’s shoulders. “Thor, be his brother, that’s what he needs, right now; not your guilt.”

She leaned down and kissed the top of his head. Thor turned in his seat, enough to wrap an arm around her back and pull her closer, his head against her chest as if he were a young boy again. He didn’t care that his father was present to see him seek reassurance, which she thought proved his maturity.

She smoothed his hair. “We will make everything right, Thor. It’s never too late.”


	13. The fox that stole the moon

Frigga sat beside Loki, her needlework in her lap untouched as she watched him. He’d been restless since she’d returned after supper, stirring enough to crack open his eyes but they shut again without alertness. She’d tried to soothe him to deeper sleep, both with her voice and a little magic, but neither worked for long.

Eir checked on him when Frigga told her, but shook her head. “All seems normal, All-Mother. I think it a good sign that he is more wakeful.” 

“But he’s not waking.”

“He will, when ready. His brain and the rest of his body is healing.” Eir moved away, and Frigga gave a little sigh, not content with that answer. 

She looked down at her needlework, finding herself still distinterested in it after a few plucks of the needle. What she wanted to do was make something to calm him, like the baby blanket she’d made him long ago, not this useless decorative piece.

Loki moved his head, causing a pained noise in his throat, and his eyelids fluttered. Caressing his face, she murmured, “Everything’s all right, little one, go back to sleep.” 

He settled again, and she eased back in her chair, wondering if he was having nightmares. She considered touching his forehead and probing to find out, but withdraw her hand. It was too dangerous, right now – the trauma might very well trap her in his mind. She would have to wait until he was at least able to distinguish his mind from hers if they touched.

But later, it might help to know if he remembered what happened to him, if only in the twisted nature of dreams, even if his conscious mind did not recall. 

The sound of the outer door opening drew her attention and she turned in her chair to see Odin entering. He stopped next to her chair, and for a moment, looked at Loki in silence. 

“How does he fare?” he asked finally, voice soft. 

“Restless,” she answered. “He may wake.” 

Giving a small nod, Odin watched a little longer. “Would you give me a moment, with him alone?” he asked, not turning to face her yet. Sensing the surprise she tried not to express he added, “That is what a father should do, is it not?”

He was here. He was trying. She smiled at him, eyes pricking with tears, as she murmured, “Yes. It is.” They traded positions, Odin sitting in the chair with her standing nearby. She gripped his shoulder in silent appreciation and left the room. 

In the observation area outside, she stopped and watched. 

She didn’t think Odin did anything, but it was only a few minutes after she had left that Loki stirred again. His hands both twitched, good hand curling against the covers, while his eyelashes quivered until his eyes snapped open. 

For a second there was fear there, as he stared at the ceiling. His breath came ragged. 

Odin told him quietly. “It was a dream, Loki. All is well.” 

Loki’s head turned, and he went white to the lips at the spike of pain in his head from the movement, but the shock of recognizing his visitor was even easier to see. 

"All-Father?" he asked, voice formal and tentative as if he was uncertain what Odin was there to do or if he was still dreaming. 

They looked at each other for a time, Loki’s face too pale and his brows drawn down in tired confusion, and Odin seemingly paralyzed under Loki’s gaze. 

The king cleared his throat, finding some words to break the silence. "You appear better. How do you feel?"

Frigga knew the honest answer would be something close to terrible, since there was still so little they could do to ease his pain when he was awake, especially in his head. But Loki insisted bravely, “I feel well.” 

Odin gave him a stern look. "I think the truth is, your injuries pain you."

"Only a little," Loki answered, and added with a more honest tone, curling a lip  in wry humor, "Only when I … breathe." 

Odin's smile was small but genuine. He looked down at Loki and didn't say anything.

Loki looked back and swallowed, before saying in a carefully polite tone. "Thank you for visiting me." 

That was meant as an opening for Odin to give his wish for Loki to be better, make his excuses and leave, but Odin's lips pressed together in a grimace, recognizing what Loki was trying to do. He asked, "Would you care for distraction? I could read to you." 

Loki stared at him, as if Odin had grown a second head or was speaking in a new language he didn't understand. His gaze flickered to the door, in hope someone would come rescue him from this stranger masquerading as the king. "You would? I – uh – I'm sure you have something more important to do..." 

"Other tasks I could do," Odin answered, "But nothing pressing. Nothing more important than visiting you." 

Loki’s lips parted in astonishment, as Odin pulled the visitor's chair nearer the bed and settled himself in it. 

Frigga put a hand over her mouth, eyes suddenly welling with tears. This had not happened since Loki had been a young child. Many years had passed since Odin had chosen to spend time with him, and him alone. 

Odin noted his expression, so raw and open with confusion and even suspicion that someone was about to pull a trick on him, and softened. "You nearly perished," he murmured in explanation. "And in that moment, I saw the distance I had let grow between us, my son. I realized I had given you only harsh words untempered by softness, and that was unjust and unkind. That was not what I intended, but it was what I became to you. I wish to make amends, if it is not too late?" 

"N- no," Loki answered, in a voice of wonder at this miracle happening next to him. "No, of course not, Father. I – would like it..."

Odin pulled a slim volume out of his cloak pocket and held it up. "I recalled this was your favorite when you were small. The fox one, you insisted again and again."

"You remember that? I barely recall it myself."

"I could probably recite the tale, so many times did you hear it, even these many years later," Odin said, with a flicker of a smile. "But in case my memory fails, your mother kept the book in her casket of remembrances."

"They're Midgardian? I think I remember that much," Loki said.

Frigga looked carefully but saw no flash of recognition about Midgard on Loki’s face. He still had no idea he had stepped foot there. 

"They are," Odin said. "Close your eyes, Loki, and listen." He read the story about the brave wolf who joined with the wily fox, and together they defeated a bear and stole the moon from the grip of a grumpy snake. By the time the fox had curled up in his den to rest, Loki was asleep, too.

Odin closed the book and simply watched him for a time, his expression heavy with regret. He left the book on the small table and joined her outside. 

"I –" He started in a rough voice. "He did not believe I would visit him." 

"Why would he?" she asked. "The last time you did anything with him alone I think he was still learning his letters." His gaze swiveled to pin hers, and she returned it calmly. "We reap as we sow, my lord. Do you know how many times he came to me, disappointed and resentful that you saw only his faults? And how many times I reassured him of your love? Yet was I the one deceived, not your child?"

He looked to the image again, and he had lost all trace of anger as he replied, “No. No, you are not.” He sighed. “But in taming his power, trying to control his willfulness, I made this chasm.” He turned back to her, brows lifted. “Do you think the story helped? I worried he might be offended to be read a children’s story, but he seemed accepting. Do you think?”

The uncertainty in his voice charmed her, reminding her of a young king, courting her after a battle and trying to impress her with his deeds. 

“I think he was glad you were there, no matter what you did.” But as he began to smile back, pleased with her approval, she let her own smile fade. “But that is only once. To have him believe you mean it, will take more than one story.” 

“Of course,” he agreed. 

But as they both watched Loki sleep more peacefully, she wondered if Odin meant it only for the moment, while Loki was so unwell. Only time would tell whether Odin would retreat to old ways with Loki, or not.


	14. Two Warriors Confess

Seeking some respite from _everything_ , Thor wandered outside to the balcony overlooking the training yard. He considered going to spar, but found himself not in the mood. He watched the fighters, but he remembered the battle on Vanaheim. They’d won, easily, blood all over the ground, his own voice cheerfully proclaiming victory.

Later, however, Thor had gone to find Loki, who had left the celebration early, much to Thor's confusion. “ _What victory?”_ Loki had challenged, instantly deflating Thor’s mood. “ _It was a slaughter. You didn’t have to kill them.”_

“Well, you certainly didn’t,” Thor shot back. “Treating your enemies like dance partners. Not like a warrior.”

“A warrior doesn’t stoop to murder. Which was basically what this was!” Loki’s eyes were bright as he spat the words. “You owe their families blood-price. And I will tell--”

Thor had reacted with rage, slamming Loki into the wall of the barn so hard the wood rattled. “You will tell no one, brother. Or I will tell _everyone_ you ran away from the battle. And we’ll see who is believed.”

Loki’s face had gone white to the lips, so his eyes seemed the only color in his face, against his black brows and eyelashes stark against his skin. He stared at Thor, lips parted but, nothing had come out for a few weighty seconds.

His voice when it had finally emerged had been soft and calm, “You would do that?”

And Thor, fool that he had been, had pushed Mjolnir against Loki’s chest and threatened, “Don’t ruin this victory, little brother.”

“Fine. You can have your story _,”_ Loki hissed at him. “But don’t you forget, which of us is the _liar_.”

The remainder of that trip, Loki had barely spoken a word to him, and treated him with chill politeness when they were home. He had gone along with the tale, saying nothing when Thor had reported to Odin nor the numerous recountings afterward. Weeks later he had complained that Loki seemed to be avoiding him, and his apology had, in restrospect, been rather half-hearted, saying, “Everything is fine, is it not? You’re not still angry at me, for making the story more exciting?”

How had he not noticed at the time as he could remember it today, how false Loki’s smile had been? “No, of course not. I’m not angry with you about that.”

Instead of noticing what Loki had actually said, Thor had clapped him on the back and brought Loki to the tavern, and he’d thought it was finished.

_I am every bit the fool you said I was, brother. Every bit._

“Thor!”

The cry of his name drew his attention down below, where he saw Sif and Fandral, who were dressed for sparring, but when he shook his head at their invitation to come down, they came up the stairs to the observation deck instead.

“Well met, Thor,” Sif greeted with a smile. “You will not spar with us?”

“Not today friends.”

They accepted that easily enough. “I see you evaded any serious consequence from your mad coup attempt?” Fandral jested, spreading his hands to indicate here Thor was, not locked up. “We feared you might be exiled again.”

But Thor couldn’t smile at that. “No, not that.”

“What happened?” Sif bent her head nearer, her gaze softening in concern.

Thor held out his hand in his gesture to bring Mjolnir, and both of them reflexively turned and stepped out of the path. When nothing happened, he let his hand fall back to his side.

Fandral gasped. “He took Mjolnir again from you! But that is unfair, my friend – we should speak to him, protest that you were not at fault, the scepter --”

“Stop,” Thor interrupted then again more forcefully when Fandral continued to speak. “Enough! He is not wrong in his judgment, Fandral. And it is not only the scepter that makes me unworthy of that power.”

Sif gaped at him. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I am not. Because I _lied_ for glory and I know that now.” He swallowed and told them, “I finally told Father what truly happened on Vanaheim. He was… displeased.”

Fandral and Sif exchanged a look. “Why would you say anything about that now?” Sif asked. “That was years ago.”

“Because Loki remembers nothing past that. And I had to confess what I knew about why his mind fixated on our lies. I was cruel and broke his trust in me. And I didn’t understand what I’d done. I do now.” The other two looked confused, since his threats to Loki had been private, but Thor was not interested in explaining his shame.

“He’s lost his memory?” Fandral asked, shocked. “ _Everything_ back to that quest?”

“Yes. He was struck a hard blow to the head, and Eir warns there may be other problems we have not found yet.”

“Oh, Thor, I”m sorry,” Sif murmured. “We should have asked after him first. How does he fare? Otherwise, I mean? He must have awakened, at least, for you to know this?”

“Yes, he’s been awake, only for a few minutes each time before he must rest. And his injuries heal too slowly and cause him great pain. There seems so little to help him!” Thor burst out, slapping a hand against the railing. “What good are we in Asgard that we can do nothing!”

“He’ll be better, Thor,” Fandral reassured him. “And remember, it wasn’t so long ago that everyone thought he had passed on already, fallen off the Bifrost. He’s back home, and the Healers will do their work. He will be fine, just have faith.”

Thor listened and after amoment, had to nod his acceptance. He still was unsure about Loki being ‘fine’ - it seemed such a distant destination – but he would keep hope for it.

“You two should visit him,” he suggested. “When Eir allows more visitors, at least. He will need some distraction, I suspect.”

Fandral exhanged a worried look with Sif, who chewed on her lip in uncertainty before answering, “I’m not sure he wants to see us.”

“But you are his friends,” Thor insisted.

“He sent the Destroyer not just at you,” Fandral said, “but at us. He was king, and we ignored that to come fetch you.”

“I would still do the same,” Sif said. “But, knowing what we know now, I think we should have seen the All-Mother first. We assumed he had done something to the king and stolen the throne, and she would have told us what was happening.”

Thor listened to this and shut his eyes in pain, now able to see what else had happened. Norns, he had been happy to see his friends in his exile, confused and hurt that Loki had lied about Odin’s death, but never once had he stopped to wonder why Loki was behaving in that way. _Oh, it was madness, he snapped, he was always odd, and on and on,…_ All the stupid things he had told himself to smooth over the questions and ignore the deeper problems.

He inhaled deeply and let it out as a weary sigh. “If he recalls all that, we will deal with it. Until then, let us all try to repair our relationships to him, so if those memories come back, he will have a firmer foundation of brotherhood, and friendship.”

“Of course, my friend,” Fandral reassured him. “We will do what you wish, whatever you think will help him.”

Thor nodded at both of them, pleased that Loki would find himself not so alone in his recovery.


	15. The paper dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we get Loki's POV in this one.
> 
> just to warn you, he's got some dark thought processes including some suicidal ideation, so if that's an issue you might want to skip this one.

;

* * *

There was something wrong with him.

Each time Loki clawed his way back to consciousness, he knew that. His injuries of course, but it was more than that. It was more than the shooting pain in his head every time he tried to move it, or the strange web of blue light that occasionally flashed across his vision, or the sharp fragments of bad dreams that felt like they slashed his mind to ribbons right before waking. It was something besides his lack of appetite or interest in rising, or the weariness that made him want to sleep the second his eyes opened.

He didn’t know _what_ it was, but he saw its reflection in the eyes of the people looking at him. It wasn’t normal, and that meant he wasn’t normal. There was a secret they were keeping, and after Odin’s visit, he figured out it had to be something that was making them try to make amends with him.

The only explanation was that he was dying. His injuries hadn’t killed him quick and clean, but left him in this lingering pain state to die slowly, but inevitably.

He couldn’t ask Frigga or Thor; they would lie to him. But when he awoke and found only Eir at his bedside, examining his legs, he thought he could ask her.

“My prince, it is good to see you awake,” she murmured, with a polite nod. “I need to shift the position of your legs within the restraining field, to ensure a proper healing. I regret that this will require some movement that will hurt. But it should pass.”

He didn’t want to move his head to nod understanding. “Eir, am I--” _Dying_ , he meant to finish, but at that moment she released the field so his legs impacted the bed below.

Jarring in his knees and hips sent a shockwave up his whole body, and a cry escaped his lips, head shifting in spite of himself.

Eir’s hands were on his legs while she watched something on the monitor floating above his body, and she said, “Almost done, my prince. One more.” Something in his right knee shifted then, cracking pain this time, leaving him helpless beneath the onslaught.

She re-engaged the field so the sharpness eased, leaving behind a deep, distracting throb. Eir said something to him, but he couldn’t hear her over the thumping in his ears of his own heart racing. The pain made nausea curdle in his stomach, and he concentrated on simply not retching, knowing it would only make him hurt worse if he gave in.

It lasted forever or only a few minutes, until he was able to blink, finding his eyes wet. He could lift a hand to wipe them, though his attempt was halted by fingers gently wrapping around his hand.

He looked up to find Frigga watching him. “I’ll do that, sweetheart.” She helped guide his hand back down and dabbed at his eyes with a soft cloth. “Better?” He made an affirmative noise. “Eir told me what she had to do. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help you.”

“I’m okay.” His voice was hoarse and he had to clear his throat.

“No, no you’re not,” she answered, shaking her head with a brave but tearful smile. “You will be, but you’re not okay yet.”

“ _Yet” –_ there was the lie, wasn’t it? The promise of healing and recovery that had to be false.

He remembered then what he’d intended to ask Eir, but he wasn’t going to ask Frigga. Bad enough she knew; why would he want to break her heart further by making her lie to him, or worse, make her tell him the truth? Let her dote on him for whatever time he had left. Perhaps it would help her later.

“Amma?” Her fingers idly smoothing his cheek paused.

“Yes, son?”

“I… I’m sorry,” he whispered.

She frowned curiously. “For what, darling?”

“For… whatever I did that made this happen. For… not being strong enough to stop it.” _For dying_ , he wanted to add, but kept that part back. That was the part he was most sorry for. She was already so stricken, he wished it would hurry up and not drag out to hurt her more.

“No, no,” she started shaking her head, eyes shining. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Loki. Nothing. Don’t think about it like that. You just concentrate on getting better.” She kissed his brow, smoothing his hair back with her hand. He let himself be comforted by her touch, but for the first time, stayed awake beneath it.

“What hurt me?” he asked. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, but this time she gave a better answer.

“A … strange creature,” she answered. “Powerful, unknown. Thor said you were taken completely by surprise.”

“I thought it was a battle.”

“It was. Your other opponents were not so strong, which was why this one was such a surprise.”

He frowned and tried to coax his mind to recover that. It seemed he ought to remember something so dramatic. But all he could recall was that – whatever it was – with Sif and the brigands on Vanaheim. He thought there had been a fight, but it was indistinct, like a half-remembered dream and then nothing. Trying to remember the battle, if battle it had been, made his head throb.

“Was that on Vanaheim?”

She shook her head, but her gaze was wary and her tone too careful. “No, it was afterward, sweetie. Don’t push yourself to remember yet. Let your mind heal itself.”

“And if it doesn’t?” he asked.

She paused before she smiled. “Then it doesn’t. Perhaps you never will recall what you don’t now, Eir doesn’t know. But they are the past, sweetheart. You make new memories.” She kissed his forehead, so he couldn’t see her wet eyes.

_She knows there won’t be any, that’s why she’s so sad._

He lifted his hand to touch her hair, finding his fingers were trembling. “It’s all right,” he whispered. “If the Norns will it, it will be.”

* * *

 

The worst part of his injuries was that over the next day, he found himself awake more. He would doze, but then try to shift in his sleep or barely waking, and pain would spark him awake. The position, flat on his back and held rigidly, was also a growing discomfort of its own, and he could feel his mood sour.

How long was this going to take? And the answer he came to was, too long. This was dragging out the inevitable and he despised that – it was turning his mother into a ghost of herself, all pale and wan, and Thor was a sodden mess most of the time, accepting Loki’s mildest jibes with watery smiles as if he didn’t dare snap back.

Loki decided enough was enough. So the next time, Eir came in while he was awake and alone, he called her to him.

“Is there something we can do to speed the outcome?”

She blinked at him and answered, “I am doing all I can, my prince. I understand you find it slow and painful, and I wish I had a magic way to quicken--”

He rolled his eyes, and she fell silent, frowning at him.

“You don’t need magic. You need… a dagger. Poison. Something to make it quick.”

Her frown deepened and she asked, “A dagger? To make what quick?”

Sighing with impatience that she was making him say it aloud, even though the deeper breath spiked in his ribs, he answered, “My death.”

Her eyes widened and mouth parted in shock. “Your-- death? You want--”

He cut in, “I want an end to this lingering, intolerable slow slide. I obviously can not do it myself, but I can make my wishes known.”

She hesitated, braced her shoulders, and answered, “I am a Healer, my lord. I cannot and will not assist you with such a request. I will do all I can to make you as comfortable as possible, but I will not deliberately hasten your death.”

Cold rage welled up inside and he hissed at her, “Then get out.”

She bowed her head and left.

He wanted to throw things, but there was nothing to throw and gripping the sheet felt so useless it was absurd. He blew out a breath, angry and awake, with nowhere to go, nothing to do, only the high curve of the white ceiling and arches to look at.

He held up his good hand high enough he could see it without moving his head too much. He tried to call seidr – just a measly light – but saw not even a flicker. He could just barely sense seidr at all, and trying to reach for it felt like grabbing water.

His hand fell back to his side, weariness stealing through him, but not enough to sleep. _I want to read. I want to watch something. I want to sit up. I want to escape this place. I want an end to this. I want to stop hurting._

Tears were slipping out from beneath his eyelids, and he brushed them away. _If Eir won’t help, I’ll have to find someone who will._

But who? No one came in here except for the Healers and his family.

He must have dozed off because he woke up when Frigga hurried into the room, her familiar step rapid on the hard floor. “Loki!”

Very slowly he turned his head toward her, pleased that it seemed not stir the pain this time, only made the throbbing intensify briefly. “Mother.”

She seized his hand and peered into his face, her own expression riven with dismay. “Darling, Eir told me – Eir told me you asked her to-- to --” she choked on a sob in her throat and could barely push out, “to end your life. Sweetheart, no.” She shook her head desperately. “Why? Why would you want to leave us?”

He had to look away from her grief-stricken face. “Because … I see how much this is hurting you--”

“Your _death_ would hurt me a lot more, little one. I can’t – I can’t go through it again.”

He frowned. “Again?”

That brought her up short and she bit her lip, her expression suddenly shutting down and her eyes darting. “You-- were so close to death when you were brought here, sweetheart. You didn’t actually die, but it seemed like you might.”

It sounded true, but there was some edge of falsehood to her words there; that hadn’t been what she’d originally been talking about.

She didn’t stop though, chasing that idea away. “Which is why I don’t understand why you would-- would want it now? Is it the pain? Eir could put you into a deeper sleep again, until you heal-”

“Enough.” His voice cold and sharp silenced her. “Stop lying!”

She had the gall to look confused. “Lying about what, Loki?”

“That I’m going to _heal,”_ he snarled. “That I’m going to be fine. That I’m not _dying. I know the truth,_ Mother, and I decided I don’t want to lie here, helpless, while my body slowly creeps toward its inevitable ending. I know you want to keep me here, and I love you for it, but I don’t want it!”

His voice rose, echoing off the walls, until it broke, and he shook in the grip of the overwhelming emotion, shutting his eyes tightly, while tears leaked off the sides of his face.

For a moment there was absolute appalled silence. Then he felt Frigga’s fingers on his face. “No, Loki, no. You’re wrong, sweetheart. You’re not dying.”

He snorted, not believing her.

“It hurts, little one, but you are healing. If you could see your own scans, you’d see how much better you actually are. I know it’s slow, and you’re impatient, but I swear, Loki, I swear to you on my _life_ , that you are healing.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, pushing out the tears, and then looked at her, blinking. “You mean it?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes,” she confirmed, wiping his face with her fingertips. “Yes, I promise. Please, little one, don’t give in to despair. Hold on, keep holding on, and all this--” she lifted her chin at the healer’s room, “all this will pass. And you’ll be well again.” She cupped his cheek. “All right? Do you believe me?”

He did believe her. “Yes. I do.”

She regarded him, forehead still knotting in worry. “What made you think you were dying, Loki? Surely no one told you that.”

“No. I just – You’re all keeping something from me. And I thought that was the only reason Father would want to make amends,” he admitted. “So if I’m not dying, what is it?”

She settled back, considering. “I thought it might be too hard to hear, but-- if the truth will keep you from imagining something much worse, I suppose I should. What is the last thing you remember?”

The deliberate question made him draw back in himself, and feel cold. His lips parted for no sound and he had to swallow to find his voice. “How long ago was it?” he whispered. “How much have I lost?”

Her hand gripped his more tightly, and she answered calmly, “About ten years, little one.”

Ten years. He’d forgotten ten years of his own life. Ten years of memories, wiped from his mind. Ten years of things he did, that he couldn’t remember anymore.

“Will I get them back?” His voice sounded so young, so helpless. A little boy begging his mother for comfort, _are there monsters under the bed, Amma?_

But she was honest. “We don’t know. Your brain is still healing after the fracture, so it’s possible.”

“But it might not.”

“True.”

Ten years. He turned his eyes up toward the ceiling again, trying to think it through.

“Is that why Thor’s different?” he asked.

“Like your father, he also nearly lost you, Loki. That’s why they’re so eager to make amends,” she explained softly. “But yes, Thor has also been through some trials that have matured him from what you remember. So be gentle with him, he’s still learning, but he’s trying, Loki.”

“Oh.”

He felt strangely unmoored now, free of what had supported him and now he was just… floating. He’d built up this dragon in his mind, to find it was nothing but paper. It wasn’t real. The truth was something quite different, and yet somehow more shocking. He knew what to do with death, but not with lost memories

“Amma?” his voice was small, but she heard it.

“Yes, little one?”

“My dreams are so dark. Are those my memories? Are they real? Is that why I don’t remember?”

It took her a moment to answer. “I don’t know,” she answered and her voice caught.

And he knew the true answer was ‘yes’.

 

* * *

tbc...


	16. Sentimentality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, I just realized this fic broke 1000 Kudos! Kudos and comments are always wonderful gifts, and I appreciate you all so much for reading this angst-fest!
> 
> <3

* * *

Frigga kept her composure steady with Loki, but when he finally dropped off to sleep and she was able to go outside, all that she’d been trying to control, suddenly rose up in her chest. Her eyes burned, blinding her so she would’ve run into someone before firm hands caught her.

“Frigga.” Odin’s voice was low and concerned. “What has happened?”

She lifted her face to him, blinking furiously. “He – thought he was dying. He thought because you were making amends with him, that he was _dying_. It was the only secret that made sense to him!”

Odin flinched back, but not letting her go. It wasn’t enough.

“How have we failed so deeply that my son believes his father would only make amends with him at death?” she demanded furiously. “How can he think it is better than _anything_ to have Eir put him down like a feral animal! But he _did_! He did.”

Odin pulled her against him, letting her fists beat at his armor while she heaved sobbing breaths, until she calmed down enough to rest her head on his shoulder and her hands opened. His hand smoothed her hair at her back. “But he is not dying, Frigga. We know that, and I presume you told him so.”

“I did. But that he should believe it at all--”

“He has ever believed the worst. It is a shadow within him, this refusal to believe or trust in goodness.”

She lifted her head, wiping her wet eyes with the cuff of her sleeve. “Because he’s always felt, in his heart, that we were lying to him.”

He pulled from her with a sigh. “You agreed it was for the best.”

“I know. I did. I believed it was. But not now. I told him of the gap of his memories, though nothing of what happened in between. He said he has bad dreams which he fears are the missing memories.”

“They probably are. Did he give you any specifics?”

“No. Merely attempting to recall them made him fearful, so I didn’t persist.”

He nodded, expression thoughtful. “We know there was much evil done, and he suffered much as he does now.” She agreed, because it was true that the damage they knew about was similar. Odin looked toward the monitors, to check that Loki still slept. “He remains fragile in both body and mind. We must tread carefully.” Off her somewhat skeptical look, he added, “Of course I want to know who hurt him and what threat they are, but he should be stronger before we open that bottle.”

She found herself relieved. “I agree. Did you get anything useful from the scepter or the Mind Stone?” she asked.

“Nay, though its eagerness for darkness is telling on its own. There is much evil in it that was not present in the stone which I first beheld it with my father. It is under seal in the treasury, but it should not be kept near the tesseract for long.”

“You intend to scatter them again.”

He lifted his brows at her. “It was certainly never my intention that half of them appear on _Midgard_ ,” he said with a rather amused disdain. “But I think I shall send some of our warriors outside with the task to search out the history of the Mind Stone. Someone knows into whose hand it passed.”

“Thor, too?” she asked.

Odin looked again at the monitor. “Perhaps. If he regains Mjolnir.”

“He won’t wish to leave until Loki is better, I think,” she said quietly.

“I would not send him until then,” he promised.

She curled a hand around his arm and leaned against his shoulder. “I see my husband,” she murmured. “I am glad to see him again.”

* * *

Thor heard from Frigga about what Loki had believed in his family’s silence and his heart felt as if it would shatter and break.

“ _I could’ve done it, Father_!” rang in his ears and he saw the terrible calm steal across Loki’s face just as he let go of Gungnir’s halt, all over again.

He would not lose Loki, not like that, not to despair.

But when he went to tell Loki this, the words were wiped right out of his mind by the sight of Eir tilting the upper half of the bed so Loki could sit more upright.

She paused when the bed was angled, and asked, “How is it, my prince?”

“Better,” he answered. “The change in position is much improved.”

“Good. I will have the apprentices bring you something to eat as well, and we shall build up your strength again.”

Eir left, and in the quiet moment that followed, before Loki noticed Thor was present, Thor was able to look at him. His hair was ridiculously short, mussed and curly on one side where it was a little longer. His face was still pale, though the bruising had faded. His left arm remained immobilized and was now held across his chest, while the restraining field was keeping him from putting all his weight on his healing hips and legs.

Nevertheless his jaw tightened and he held himself motionless, not even breathing, and Thor knew the position was not as comfortable as he had claimed.

Thor rapped lightly on the door and approached eagerly, pretending he hadn’t noticed. “Loki! Look at you, sitting up!”

“Leaning up,” Loki corrected with a wry look, and a wave of his good hand down his body.

“No matter, this is still fantastic.” Thor bent over him to kiss his forehead, and had to smile as Loki frowned at him in response. Thor cupped his cheek in one hand to look in his eyes. “Mother told me you feared you were dying. Brother, do not be alone with fears so dark; we want nothing more than your recovery.”

Loki moved his head, looking away, and Thor let him. Loki picked at the blanket over his lower half with his good hand. “It doesn’t matter. I know it’s not true.”

“But it does matter,” Thor insisted. “For so long, you have kept your fears here,” he touched Loki’s chest lightly, “to yourself. You hide your unhappiness. Tell us, so we might ease you.”

Loki didn’t look at him, chewing on his lower lip in absent thought. “This is bizarre,” he admitted.

“What is?”

“You.” He frowned up at Thor. “Has it truly only been ten years? You seem so much,” he paused to pick the word, “… older.”

At first Thor took him seriously – did he really look older? Had he visibly aged?-- but the faint smirk on Loki’s lips gave it away, so Thor folded his arms. “You mean wiser.”

Loki scoffed. “Wiser? You?” But seemed to be a reflexive retort because immediately he added more seriously, “Yes. What happened? Mother said you had some experience that taught you a lesson, what was it?”

Thor debated how much to tell him. “I did something rash and immature.” When Loki snorted his lack of surprise at that, Thor nodded. “Yes, exactly. But when it nearly caused a war with Jotunheim, Father exiled me to Midgard, without most of my powers so I was nearly mortal. It was… humbling. And then, just a little while ago, I ..” he had to swallow hard, remembering, “I found you, in a pool of your own blood. I thought you were already lost, and I saw what my life would be without you in it, and I saw all that I had done in my arrogance to hurt you. When you survived, I swore,” he seized Loki’s hand in both of his, “I would be a better brother to you. I won’t let it happen again, Loki.”

Loki dampened his lips with his tongue and tried to pull his hand free but Thor didn’t let him, so he curled his fingers around Thor’s, holding on instead. “Thor – I --- this is so strange,” he muttered under his breath. Then he looked up at Thor and confessed, “I don’t know what to say.”

Pleased to have caught Loki so completely by surprise, Thor smiled. “Usually you scoff at my sentimentality.”

“Do I? I suppose I do,” he agreed after a moment and glanced down at his hand still engulfed by Thor’s own and murmured, “I wonder if you mean it." 

His voice was so soft, so _lost_ , it made Thor’s heart hurt. “I do, Loki. You are my brother, always.”

Loki’s small smile seemed sad. “I suppose if I must dream, at least this is a good one.”

“It is no dream. You will soon be well, brother, and we will have many adventures together. You’ll see.”

Loki might have replied, except the clatter of several approaching footsteps, silenced them both. Eir and an assistant pushing a cart entered through the archway from the healers’ main room, and came right up to the bed. Thor found himself manueveered out of the way so they could bring the cart up to the bed and extended the surface of it, so Loki could reach the items on it.

“Broth,” Eir pointed to one fo the cups, then the other, “Minerals and sugar.” Neither cup held much liquid, though at least the broth looked more appetizing than the greenish milky substance. There were also a few small cubes of crustless bread on a plate. “Bread, if you wish to try some.”

Loki’s lips pressed together. “I don’t want it,” he refused. “I’m not hungry.”

“Try a little, my prince?” Eir suggested. “It would help you heal.”

“Loki, just try?” Thor asked and held up the broth cup. “Please? For me?”

Loki rolled his eyes at the blatant manipulation, but held out his hand. “Fine.”

He took it from Thor, but the cup was only halfway to his lips, when his hand started to shake. The tremors grew, threatening to drop the cup. Thor wrapped his hand around Loki’s. “I’ll help you.”

“I can do it myself.” Loki tried weakly to tug free, but Thor didn’t let him.

“You can do the next one,” Thor said, and held the cup to his lips. Loki sipped some of the broth, but, after he swallowed it, pushed the cup away.

“No,” he whispered, hand over his stomach and eyes shut. “No more. I can’t.”

“That’s all right, my prince,” Eir told him. “If you can keep that down, that’s enough for now.”

Her expression said otherwise, that she’d rather he eat the contents of his tray, but she had to accept it. She explained to Thor, “The head trauma makes him queasy. It is not unexpected.”

He looked pallid to the lips, and Thor noticed his hand was trembling merely resting on his abdomen.

Eir saw it, too. “I will lower the bed for you to rest.”

“I’ve only been up for a few minutes,” Loki complained.

That got him no reprieve. “You may have it up again after you’ve rested.”

Loki groaned and met Thor’s eyes, seeking help against her tyranny, but Thor had no intention of interfering. He smiled. “Then you rest, and I’ll be back later. Mother and Father will be so pleased to hear you ate something.”

"Ganging up on me," Loki muttered, but that was all the complaint he had as Eir lowered his head. He closed his eyes and the tension in his face and neck eased as she touched the controls to strengthen his pain relief and help him back to sleep.

Thor patted his hand in farewell and hoped he’d have better dreams, now that he had proof he was improving.

* * *

tbc... 

 


	17. The dark and the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short, hopefully sweet. I'm moving houses so my place is a mess of boxes and it's possible but unlikely there'll be an update next week, I'm sorry to say.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy for now, and I'm not done with it by any means. It's just RL being a pain. Hang in there, readers! <3 to you all. :)

* * *

There was nothing. He saw nothing but darkness; there was no light anywhere and yet he knew his eyes were open and he _could_ see, there was just nothing there.

There was nothing to touch, either. His fingers felt nothing, no air against his cheek. No hot or cold.

He was there, but there was nowhere. He was nowhere. His heart was beating too hard, too fast, but there was no air to breathe.

The darkness took a form, a shadow of something huge. It was smothering him and he couldn’t move.

And then he felt something. A hand on his head, fingers digging into his skull, pressing, and squeezing. His skull would be crushed. The pain was excruciating. He opened his mouth to scream…

.. _Loki?_

He opened his eyes to find Frigga’s face hovering above his, and something on his forehead and he jerked his head aside to get away, before he identified it as her hand. His head spiked with pain at the motion, and a sound came out of his mouth before he could bite it back.

“You’re safe, little one,” Frigga soothed. “It was a dream.” He shut his eyes trying to relax, but his whole body was rigid and his mouth was dry with the aftertaste of terror.

“Can you tell me about it?” she asked.

He could still remember, but when he opened his mouth, the details evaporated. The rest seemed inconsequential. All he could find to tell her was a halting, “I – it was dark. There was… something… there. It hurt me. The creature that hurt me?” he guessed. “Is that who--”

“There are separate events, sweetheart. The creature that hurt you recently -” she touched his arm, “was not known to us before, but is not a mystery now. But before that,” she pressed her lips together, searching for the way to explain, “you were missing. No one could find you, not your father, not me, not Heimdall. But Eir discovered during that time, someone or something hurt you then as well.”

“You don’t know?” he hated the way his voice rose up at the end, tremulous as a child’s.

“No, we don’t where you were. And I fear that is what you dream of. So we hope you can remember and tell us. But--” her hand returned to smooth his hair, “-- I would rather you remember nothing than have these nightmares break your rest.”

He thought of what she’d said and the ill-formed terrors in his sleep, and swallowed. “How was I missing?” he asked. “What happened?”

She pressed her lips together, regretting telling him as much as she had. “It’s a long story, that I don’t wish to tell you now, but … you fell from the Bifrost into the void. We feared you were dead.”

A flash of his nightmare – _the nothing –_ struck, stealing his breath, and making him feel cold. “That’s my dream,” he whispered, forcing out the words. “There’s only darkness. And shadow and then pain….”

“Oh, darling,” her face twisted in sorrow and she leaned down to kiss his brow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

“No, I – I want to know,” he told her. “Maybe it will help.”

He didn’t really believe it would. Knowing what the nothingness _was_ , didn’t ease the terrifying hold the reminder had on his body and mind. But better to know, than know there was a secret.

He wanted to press for _how_ he’d fallen – it wasn’t something that could happen accidentally – but decided he was too weary to push when he probably didn’t want the answer anyway. Both she and Thor feared giving him the truth, which meant it was terrible. He could wait.

“Could you read something?” he asked. “Something light? I could use something else to focus on.”

She seemed grateful for the chance to do something useful for him, and that let her smile more naturally and pluck a book off the table. “I have your favorite Kree poetry collection.”

He let himself sink into the rhythm of the words and the delicate construction, casting off the shadows of his nightmares. They were all familiar poems to him, but in Frigga’s voice seemed to be renewed.

He closed his eyes to better visualize the poems, but opened them again when she hesitated as something drew her attention. Footsteps intruded, and Odin's voice greeted them both, “Good afternoon.”

Odin moved close enough that Loki didn't have to turn his head. That sharp blue eye examined Loki and Odin nodded approval. “You do look improved, as Thor claimed. Very good. I would do that, Frigga, if I may. Something calming after today’s court assembly would be welcome.”

She handed him the book and vacated the chair promptly. “Of course.” She kissed Loki’s brow again. “I will see to your dinner while he reads to you, and return in a little while.”

Odin read one poem to him before closing the book “I had an idea for something you might do while still abed. Thor mentioned you were growing restless and bored, and I think poetry will not engage your inquisitive mind for long. There is a treaty negotiation with Alfheim on which I would like your thoughts.”

He said it so casually, but Loki tensed warily. This felt strange and unusual. Of course, having Odin read to him also felt unusual, but to want his thoughts on something important was … unprecedented, so far as Loki could remember. “You want… my opinion… on a treaty with Alfheim?” he repeated slowly, in case he had misunderstood.

“You have a clear mind for legal matters,” Odin said. “And I have been deficient in taking advantage of it. But – that said--” he added, “nor do I wish you to have any undue stress about this or damage your recovery. So it is not a,” he hesitated, searching the right word, “trial. Or audition. It is simply something for you to occupy your mind for a time. If you wish it?”

Loki did not, for one second, believe it wasn’t some kind of trial. Odin never did anything at a whim. But Loki was also already desperate for something to do. If Odin really wanted his thoughts on this treaty, Loki would give him some. He held out his good hand. “I do. And I thank you for the distraction.”

Odin chuckled. “I am unprepared. But I will have a copy made for you.”

“Oh.” Disappointed, Loki let his hand fall back to the bed.

Odin regarded him and then said, “If you are so eager, would you care to hear of today’s audience? If I am to have your advice in one area, I should hear it in others.”

 _I should’ve gotten myself killed centuries ago_ , Loki thought with some sour humor. But he certainly wasn’t going to object if Odin was willing to talk to him as if Loki actually had something worth hearing. His heart felt buoyant and warm in the glow of Odin talking to him about rule and royal justice. Odin wanted his opinion. His, not Thor's. 

_If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up._

tbc...


	18. Uncertain vision

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, sorry for the delay - my house move had internet problems, bleurgh. Treasure your wifi, people! 
> 
> But I'm back and let's pick up where we left off. Enjoy! :)

* * *

In the audience hall, Thor looked at Mjolnir, tempted to tug at the handle, but he knew it wouldn’t come to him yet and it would only be humiliating to fail in front of people he should impress. So he stood to the king’s side, put his hands behind his back and pretended he didn’t see the hammer at all.

Volstagg, Sif, Hogun, and Fandral stood before the throne, as Odin explained their quest to search out knowledge of the most recent owner of the Mind Stone.

“But be cautious,” Odin warned. “To ask too many questions is to reveal our interest, and Asgard’s interest in the Infinity Stones is going to cause other parties to be interested as well. The Stones have been out of circulation for many years, and we may not be the only one searching for their rumors.”

Sif nodded sharply. “Yes, my king. To where will be sent?”

“You will first go to Xandar as my emissaries. Speak to their leader, Nova Prime. They are mortal but strong allies of Asgard and may know of this shadowed threat who uses the Chitauri as his footsoldiers.”

“Thor will join us?” Fandral asked and grinned at Thor.

“Nay, friends,” Thor shook his head. “Not yet.”

“You have my confidence, Lords and Lady Sif,” Odin declared and there was little to say against that.

In the hall outside, nonetheless, his friends objected. “Without you, or without Loki, we make poor emissaries,” Fandral said.

“And poor negotiators,” Volstagg added. “Give me a battle, even one so small as what we fought on Midgard and I know what to do, but this – this is no fit task for a warrior.”

Thor could scarce believe the words he was speaking, but he knew they were true, “We cannot always fight, Volstagg. And we cannot fight an enemy we do not know.”

Sif made a wry smile. “Strange to realize Loki would be best at this.”

Thor agreed. “He would indeed.” Loki would relish a quest like this, since it required talking, information, secrets, power, history-- all things he enjoyed most. Thor sighed. “But the Silvertongue lies abed, harmed and threatened by this unknown foe. I would travel with you, but without Mjolnir and while he is in such low spirits, I would do you little good. Go forth, my friends. Seek out who found the Mind Stone and rumors of a powerful enemy.”

“And then we will bring him to battle,” Volstagg declared.

“Of course we shall!” Thor laughed and slapped his shoulder. “Go prepare, I will see you off at the Bifrost.”

After his friends were safely away, Thor lingered in the Bifrost.

“My prince?” Heimdall prompted, when Thor stared at the great sword, thinking.

“You saw nothing of the Mind Stone before? Whose hand held it or the scepter before Loki?” Thor asked. “Or where he went after he fell?”

Heimdall shook his head, golden eyes somber. “None of that. He passed from my sight, and I believed out of the bounds of life altogether, as I reported to the king. Nor have I looked for the Infinity Stones in very many years so I did not see when the Mind Stone was placed in a new carrier, and after that I had no knowledge of what it was until you arrived with it.”

“And the others?”

Heimdall turned away, gazing out unfathomable distances. “The Soul Stone remains where it has lain undisturbed, protected by its own power. The aether – Reality – is where your father put it. Space, you know. The Time Stone is protected by the sorcerers of Midgard. And Power, I do not know.”

Thor frowned. “Another of the Stones is on Midgard? How strange that three of them should have been there at one time, and no one knew.” ‘

Heimdall flicked golden eyes at him. “I would not be certain of that. The one who sent your brother knew what he held. But to release one to acquire another is a gamble not all beings would choose,” Heimdall pointed out.

“Unless there was some confidence in getting it back,” Thor said, thinking of what his mother had said about torture and how Loki’s words on Midgard had seemed to be another’s. Someone had tried to ensure their prize would be returned. “Our foe will not be pleased to have lost both.”

Heimdall turned his gaze back to look upon the cosmos. “So I keep watch.”

Thor bid farewell and returned to the palace, thinking morosely that their enemy could hide himself from Heimdall's gaze, so keeping watch seemed somewhat futile in this case.

* * *

Frigga smiled to see Loki sitting up. He also had a book projection in front of him, and was reading something. It was difficult to read from the back of the projection, but then her smile widened, realizing it was the treaty. Odin really had given it to him to look at.

But her pleasure dimmed as Loki’s gaze wandered over the letters, before he frowned and shut his eyes tightly as if trying to clear his vision or he was in pain.

“Good afternoon,” she greeted him, trying not to be too sunny when he was in distress. “What’s wrong, sweetling?”

His eyes popped open. “Nothing.” Realizing that wasn’t too likely believable, when she’d caught him grimacing, he added, “Tired.”

Settling herself on the chair next to him, she decided to take that seriously, even though it was obviously a half-truth. “Then you should rest.”

“I rest too much,” he muttered.

“I don’t think that’s true. You should rest whenever you need to, to keep healing.”

“It’s so slow.”

She smoothed his forearm down to the back of his hand. “But you are getting better, Loki. Your injuries were so severe they overwhelmed your body’s healing ability, turned it nearer to mortal.”

He made a face. “Mortals are like this all the time? How do they bear it?”

She bit back a chuckle. “I think it is not all the time. Nor would they heal as quickly as you are, even if you complain of its slowness. But the point is, you need patience.”

He snorted. “Not a quality I possess.”

“Now that’s not true at all,” she objected. “You possess great quanitities when it’s something you want.” He looked disgruntled, but didn’t argue the point, since she was right. His patience was measured entirely by how much he desired the result – figuring out a spell, he had endless patience; standing in court for a reason he cared nothing about, he’d have an illusion standing in his place in two breaths. Or he would manufacture some disruption for his own entertainment.

“You want to be well, and you _are_ healing,” she reassured him, fingers light on his hand. “Is the reading material too boring?” she teased, nodding toward the glowing page of the treaty draft.

He looked away, throat working. “I can’t read it,” he murmured.

Her brows drew together in alarm, though she kept her voice steady. “What do you mean? Your vision or the letters --”

He cut her off. “No. Not that. I can see them, I know what all the words mean, I --" Pausing, anxiety burning furrows in his brow and corners of his eyes, he tried to find the words to explain, while she waited in her own anxious stillness. "I read some, I know the words, but I can’t put them together into meaning. I keep reading the same words, over and over, and they flutter away. I can’t concentrate. But I need to understand it, I promised Father I would, but my head aches, and--”

His breaths quickened and she used her free hand to banish the treaty. “Loki, no, hush, little one. It’s alright.”

He shook his head a little, brows knitting and eyes wet, “No, it’s not, I said I would do it. He’ll never ask again, he’ll never think I’m fit, if I can’t do it now--”

“Hush, that’s not true.” It broke her heart to see his distress over believing he’d _failed_ Odin. She wasn’t sure if he simply had no strength to try to hide it, or he was truly changing and opening up, but at least it gave her the chance to comfort him. She caressed his cheek with the back of her fingers. “Loki, your father knows how ill you are. He doesn’t want you to make yourself worse over a stupid treaty whose only purpose is to reaffirm what he told them a century ago. Do what you can. You impressed him yesterday with your discussion on court, so don’t fear he doesn’t know. He does.” She kept smoothing him, until he calmed and nodded in acceptance. “Good. Now, let’s talk about the treaty. You remember the visit, don’t you? I know you eavesdropped on the meetings at least twice.”

“I listened everyday,” he admitted.

“Clever child,” she said, impressed. “I will ask you how you did it, later. But you see? You know what this is about. So let’s look at the treaty together. Would it help if I read it to you?”

His eyes flickered as if he was unwilling to say yes but then answered grudgingly, “Maybe? If you want to?”

“Of course I do.” She settled in and opened the file again, scanning the first few paragraphs. “If it helps you feel better, this is dense and dull. I’ll read a little at a time and we can discuss it. Perhaps that will help us both stay awake.” She cleared her throat and began the recitation of titles: “ _Odin, Son of Bor, King of Asgard, Protector of the Nine Realms, All-Father_ \--”

“They won’t like that,” Loki interrupted. “’Protector’. They don’t call him that, or wish for Asgard’s protection.”

She smiled and made a notation in the margin.

He stayed awake and made useful comments through the first page, where she drew a halt. “We’ll stop here, sweetling. You look pale and I have had quite enough of this stuffy business for one day.” She banished the annotated treaty copy again with a decisive flick of her fingers, catching him trying to suppress a yawn.

“Not another nap,” he grumbled, but offered no other objection as she lowered the bed.

“You need your rest. I heard Eir plans to lighten the restraining field tomorrow. It should help you be more comfortable”

He tried to look pleased at the news, but couldn’t muster much enthusiasm. “Good. I suppose.”

“It is good, because it means another step of healing,” she told him. “Now close your eyes.” But as she shifted to move, his good hand tightened to keep her there.

“Would you – “ he started but the rest got caught in his throat, and he turned his head away, swallowing hard. “Nevermind.”

But it was obvious what he’d wanted to ask. “Of course I can stay,” she murmured and took his hand. “Rest, now, Loki. You did well today.”

As soon as he dozed off to peaceful sleep, she disengaged her hand and went to the outer room, going to Eir.

“You heard what he said about reading?” she asked, and Eir nodded. “He loves reading, Eir. If this persists...” she bit her lip, unable to imagine what Loki’s reaction would be, except it would not be happy.

“I think he should try a simpler material,” Eir said, voice a little dry. “He is perpetually exhausted by injuries and his restless sleep. He was ambitious to select something so challenging to start.”

Frigga glanced at the monitor to see the restlessness had already started. His good hand was twitching, and his eyes darted beneath his lids in dreams.

“Should you put him deeper?” Frigga asked. “Perhaps solid rest will help his concentration as well.”

“I intended to do so, yes.” Eir went into his room and touched the panels. Frigga smiled, relieved, when the tension in his face smoothed out and his hand relaxed.

He was getting better, she reminded herself. The surface injuries were mostly gone, the bones were knitting, his head gave him less problem, and he was drinking a little now-- all was proceeding toward improvement. She, like her son, had to cultivate patience. These little hiccups were to be expected and managed, and they would get through them, too.

* * *

tbc...


	19. Rising to the surface

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully there won't be any more gaps. A pretty shit July kept me from writing this (or much of anything else) - but things seemed to have settled for now. So this chapter's kind of short, but hopefully interesting! Enjoy!

* * *

The void had weight, had _form_ , like tentacles of night holding him down. He struggled against them, but they were too strong. Even knowing he was dreaming, he couldn’t wake. 

Maybe he wasn’t dreaming. Maybe everything else was the dream. He was trapped in this nothingness, and he would never escape. It would never end, only an eternity of darkness.

Abruptly everything around him blazed with golden light and yanked him from the nothing.

He opened his eyes, panting for breath, and found Odin’s face right above him. His hand, dry and warm, withdrew from Loki’s forehead. His blue eye looked into Loki’s with some sympathy. “It was a dream,” he reassured Loki.

“I couldn’t wake up, I thought-- “ he swallowed back the fear trying to strangle him. 

“When you seemed distressed in your sleep, I thought to pull you out. Better now?” 

Catching his breath now, Loki paused to figure out if he was actually better. “Yes, I am. Thank you.” 

Odin pulled Gungnir closer to him so he could lean on it, standing at Loki’s bedside. “I saw the void. Is that all you dreamt?”

Loki remembered a flicker of other darkness, and someone… something … looming above him, but then it was gone. “All I remember.” 

“Do you remember what sent you into the void in the first place?” Odin asked.

Loki glanced away, gnawing on his inner lip. “I know it was something bad,” he murmured. “The way everyone wants to hide it from me, it was something I did. Wasn’t it?” 

“No,” Odin denied then amended, “Well, you fell from the Bifrost, that was terrible. Other terrible things happened, that is also so. But the greatest mistake was mine, Loki.” Loki’s gaze snapped back to him, astonished by this acknowledgment. Odin noted the amazement and snorted. “Am I so bad about admitting my mistakes?”

“Must be the head trauma, but I don’t recall it happening before,” Loki retorted, then flinched, regretting that he’d said it. Odin was here, talking to him, had pulled him from the nightmare, and Loki was attacking him. It would serve him right if Odin walked out and never came back. 

But Odin didn’t seem angry, only amused. “At least you didn’t name me an old hound, as your mother would. But, all that is aside the point: we will tell you what you are missing,” he promised. “There is knowledge you need. But not until you are stronger.” He looked around, moment before the outer door opened and Eir entered, followed by Frigga and Thor. “And here is Eir to tell us how far along that path you are.”

Eir bowed her head. “All-Father. My prince.” She straightened and addressed Loki. “Your healing has proceeded swiftly, accelerated as much as I dared without weakening you. The internal soft tissue and organ damage were first to recover, and thankfully you are now out of danger for any sudden collapse.” 

Loki picked at the blanket, thinking that no one had told him he had been _in_ that danger before. He thought he should be annoyed by that ignorance, but he was also grateful he hadn’t been anxious about it. 

“And his head, Eir?” Odin requested softly. “His memories have not returned.” 

“The damage is perhaps eighty percent healed, according to the scans,” she reported. “That last percentage may include the recovery of these past years, or it may not. I cannot say, All-Father. It is possible.” 

“But it’s there,” Frigga objected. “We know that, from his dreams.” 

“Fragments, perhaps,” she suggested. “Or,” she hesitated and glanced between Frigga and Loki, “images impressed upon him. By those who hurt him when he was missing.” 

Loki’s stomach roiled in disgust at the implication. Someone could have been interfering in his memories. His nightmares were because they had _touched_ his mind. 

Why would someone want to imprint those fears and that pain so deeply it survived skull damage and brain trauma? 

_Discipline_ , the answer came to him, as if a far voice whispered in his ear. _Control._

He lurched sideways and Frigga was just fast enough to grab the bowl off the cart nearby for him to retch into it. “Loki!” 

His body was shuddering and felt cold, aching pain shooting through him at the odd position, but he hunched over the bowl and coughed as his stomach tried to empty itself of nothing. 

“Loki, what’s wrong?” Thor demanded anxiously, hovering on Frigga’s other side. 

“I-- I’m okay,” he said, but his voice was faint and he had to wipe his mouth with the cloth Eir found for him. He couldn’t look up, feeling all their eyes on him. _He was supposed to be getting stronger, why did he still feel so broken?_

“Loki?” Frigga asked softly, in concern. “What happened?”

“He recalled something,” Odin said, when Loki didn’t answer. 

“No, nothing. I’m fine,” he said. “Go on, Eir.” 

She hesitated, but continued anyway, “The bones are healing as well, and think it’s time to lighten the restraining fields on them, except your knees and lower left leg. But your pelvis, arm and ribs look improved enough to try a lighter support. If you wish.” 

He nodded, knowing he should try, at least. Nothing was fully healed – he could feel that much in how much he still hurt everywhere – but he would like to sleep in his own bed at least, and that required being well enough to leave the Healer Hall and its equipment.

Eir moved forward, a control pad in one hand, and she positioned Loki’s arm so it was already supported by the bed. And with a touch, released the field. 

The air on his skin felt odd, and his fingers didn’t respond when he tried to move them at first, but then it was as if something clicked together, and he could make a fist with that hand. The pull of tendons at his elbow made him clench his jaw, and lifting his arm and hand was worse, but at least he could move them again.

He became aware of his parents and Thor also watching, and for a moment he thought of vultures, gathering around to pick at a carcass, little beady eyes _staring._ “Could you stop?” he demanded.

Frigga frowned, curiously, “Stop what, Loki?"

"Watching me like I'm a court jester here for your amusement."

He saw Thor stir to object but Frigga intervened before he opened his mouth. "Of course you're not that, but we can leave you with Eir. We don't mean to hover."

He knew they were only concerned but he was still relieved when they left. He glanced at Eir's face, expecting disapproval, but she nodded her understanding. Indicating his elbow, she asked, "How does this movement feel?"

She had him move almost everything with careful deliberation. The pain was oddly welcome since it was from moving and he knew it was less sharp than before. After all the tests, she held a cup for him. "Pain draught, if you can keep it down, it would be better for you." 

He drank it slowly and it dulled the renewed throbbing to something more tolerable. "Well done," she said. "I shall tell your family that you are mending well. I will allow you to move back to your chambers with the caveat that this area is still of concern." She held a hand above his knees. "I will need to keep a close eye on its healing, and you must not put your body weight on your knees. So no attempts to stand or walk, just yet." 

He grimaced, but the prohibition wasn't a surprise since he could sense the damage there. "You think I will walk t all? Truly?" he asked, voice soft. "I can feel the weakness in there, of all the shards waiting to fall apart again."

She nodded, her expression softening. "It may be difficult and painful at first, but I see no reason why you shouldn't be able to, once they knit together properly. But it needs a few more days at least." 

He wanted to go back to his chambers, but ... a few more days. That was a small price to pay, for not having to make someone else care for him and invade his room. Nor did he want to be carried through the halls like a helpless invalid. No, he would walk to his own rooms, or he would not go.

"I'd rather stay here," he said. Her eyebrows shot up with surprise, having expected him to want to flee the infirmary as soon as he could. "I'm used to the staff, and my room can be dangerous for people not me." He tried a mischievous grin, and she shook her head. 

"For now," she agreed. "If a more serious patient arrives, I will need to displace you." 

"I like not being the more serious patient." It wasn't even a jest, he meant it. He had been dying and she'd pulled him back. And despite his earlier despair, he was glad of it now. "Eir, I--" his voice stopped, refusing to speak his gratitude for what she'd done, but he forced it out anyway, "I didn't say so before, but... thank you."

Thankfully she didn't ask him to elaborate. "It is my honor, my prince. Do not waste all my effort." 

Of course, he had no intention of doing that. He wasn't Thor, heedless of his own care. 

* * *

After Eir had reported Loki's condition and Thor had gone back to Loki's side to keep him company, Frigga had followed Odin back to his sitting room in their private quarters. He'd puttered about before going to the balcony, his mind clearly on something else. 

She brought him a cup of mead and joined him. "Odin?" she prompted when he said nothing. She only had to look at his face and know what he had not discussed while Thor was with them. "What did you see in his mind?"

"Nothing I saw, but there was... a voice," he answered slowly. "I could not clearly hear the words, but the tone was ... religious. Zealous."

"His captor's voice?" she asked, setting her cup down on the balcony rail when her fingers trembled. 

"I think so. And, Frigga, it was familiar."

"You heard it before? When?" Her mind tumbled through the possibilities, but who could it be? Some enemy with a distinctive religious cadence? She couldn't think of one, but she was not Odin's age, nor had she watched as many outer Realms people as he had.

He shook his his head once. "I know not. I need to hear it again." 

"Then you should ask Loki to see into--"

"You saw how he reacted," he interrupted. "It is there, close to the surface. To prod at it now...." he trailed off, uncertain. "I should, for the good of the Realms. We must know our enemy. But to tear the curtain in his mind seems fraught with risk that I cannot measure." 

Risks of sudden shock, of memories he was not yet ready to face, of anguish and fear all piling on him at once... yes, Odin was wiser this time. She laid her hand over his and squeezed, when he glanced at her. "It is the right choice to wait, husband."

"Is it?" he asked, a little bleakly. "If this enemy attacks--"

"Then we will defend against it. But when you keep both the tesseract and the Mind Stone, no one will challenge you."

Her attempted reassurance did not strike at the heart of his worry. His eye sought the horizon. "And when I am gone?"

"You know what you must do," she said, though her heart ached at the reminder of the inevitable. "It is our sons who must defend the Realms. Both of them need to learn their full strength and to know what weapons are theirs to wield. And that can only come from the truth." 

He turned his head to face her and his fingers gripped hers. His expression was somber and concerned. "All of it?"

She lifted her chin and nodded. "I should have told him when we both sat with you. Since that day, since I lost him," her voice faded, recalling the terrible regretful grief that had engulfed her and not eased until she'd been able to reach him before the invasion of Midgard. She had to clear her throat to find her voice. "I have thought how the truth might have changed all that followed. I thought I would have time to explain...." But she'd had no time at all, as everything had collapsed within a day. She'd been too concerned about Odin, and not concerned enough about Loki. She had to look down at her hands, shame and regret bitter in her heart. "I didn't understand the depth of the blow it was to him. How it struck across what was already cracked and shattered him. I will not make the same mistake again. He must know all of the truth, and if he knows, then Thor should, too. It's time they stop paying for our comfort."

He nodded slowly and gave a sigh. "In this I will let you guide, as my decisions regarding all of my children have proved dire. I hope I have time to amend them all." 

"You will." She rested her free hand atop his chest, smiling at him with affection. "You have a great heart, when you keep it open. Not all is scheming and darkness; there is love and light in the universe as well." 

He laid his hand over hers, pressing hers against his armor. "As you prove daily. Thank you for reminding this old warrior that he can be more, Frigga. Always you have been there to light the path, and I know how deeply lost I would be without you." 

"You never will be," she reassured him, and added with pointed emphasis, "Unless you are cruel to the children again."

He lifted a hand to ward off her ire. "I swear." But then he found a bit of a wry smile. "I have found myself quite enjoying my discussions with Loki. If I could do it again...." 

She softened at that. "If we both could do it all again, we would do better, husband. But since we can't, all we can do is better in the present." 

United, she felt sure that they would. 

* * *

tbc...


	20. Rejoice

Two days after Eir's evaluation and pronounced Loki on the mend, Thor went into the infirmary armed with little cakes from the kitchen. His mother had passed word that Loki had slept poorly again and needed some cheering up.

Thor expected to find Loki dozing or picking at his food or watching some recording-- what he did not expect was to find Loki perched on the edge of his bed.

His bare feet were on the floor, the rest of him bare except for the smallclothes around his hips. Upright, he looked all bones and no flesh, and it was alarming that he was still so thin. Worse, Thor could still see the glow around both of Loki's legs at the knee, keeping them straight. Possibly the extra support was helpful, but Thor knew it meant he had no approval to do this.

Loki was leaning all his weight against the bed, one hand clutching the edge, the other uselessly gripping the sheet. He looked sweaty and pinched, and his body was canted to the side as if he wasn't capable of straightening. He looked about five seconds from falling.

"WHAT IN ALL THE HELLS ARE YOU DOING?" Thor bellowed. Loki flinched, and for a terrifying moment, Thor thought he might collapse. He threw the plate with the cakes to the table and strode forward to seize Loki around the waist. "Get back in bed, you fool."

"I can't move," Loki confessed, breathlessly. "Or I'll fall on the floor."

He was shaking against Thor's arm, and so Thor shifted his grip to one arm around his back and the other scooping beneath his thighs. "I have you, brother." 

"Thor!" Loki yelped as Thor picked him up bodily and laid him back in bed.

"There." Thor let him go and stepped back to admire his handiwork. "Now, what possessed you to try that with no one here? What if you'd fallen? You could have hurt yourself, rebroken your bones, hit your head--"

Loki waved a hand, trying to wave away his impetuous action. "All right, all right, I said it was a mistake!" 

He hadn't actually said that so Thor just folded his arms and glared. He had no intention of letting Loki treat this foolishness lightly, when he could have been re-injured badly.

Loki heaved a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Nothing happened."

"Because I entered in time to catch you. No other reason. Certainly not because you attempted to stand without Eir's blessing. Alone."

Finally Loki cast his eyes down and curled a surly lip that he was being harangued but couldn't argue, because he knew he had been caught doing something recklessly stupid. "I thought I was strong enough. It's only standing, how hard can it be? But... it was," he finished, blowing out a disgruntled breath. "It hurt, and I was unsteady and dizzy."

Thor softened his tone. "You look as if you still hurt." The pallor and stress lines around his eyes were particularly concerning.

"No, it's fine," Loki protested and pulled his hand away from rubbing his leg as if he'd suddenly caught fire. Smiling, Thor poured out a small cup of the pain draught, and helped him drink when his hand trembled. 

He relaxed against the pillow with a deeper breath. "Thank you," he murmured, eyes flicking to find Thor. 

Thor dragged the chair closer with his foot. "Loki, what were you thinking?" he asked, trying to ask as a true question not an accusation, once he'd sat down. "You knew it was dangerous."

Loki glanced away, head turning from Thor, as he searched for an explanation. "I thought I could. That's all."

"And you wanted to attempt it in private in case you failed?" Thor asked, lifting his brows. Loki's cheeks turned pink, and he muttered something which might have been 'maybe.' 

Thor wanted to sigh, but didn't, because it was the same pride he'd have in the same situation. "You need not prove anything--" he started.

Loki's head shot up and he hissed, "Of course I do, don't be stupid. You think I can just lie in this bed, helpless and useless the rest of my days?" 

Thor stared, aghast. "Loki, of course not. No one thinks you will. You improve every day." 

"Do I?" he returned, but it was a tired voice, as his temper dissolved as quickly as it had come. "It doesn't feel that way. Everything hurts all the time...I still can't read anything more complicated than a baby book, " he added in disgust. "What if I never can? What if it's gone?"

"I've managed," Thor said, with a bit of a shrug.

Loki flicked his fingers and huffed. "You can read." 

"I have to read slowly. Sometimes the runes go backward, so I have to concentrate. You know this, certainly you mocked me for my slowness often enough." 

That seemed to stir something in Loki, as if this were new to him. He gave Thor a look, frowning at him. "Truly? I always thought you were doing it to annoy me."

"No, of course not, why would I do that?" Thor returned, completely confused. "I wanted to be clever like you, not slow. Why do you think I always wanted you to tell me things? When you say things aloud, I get it right away." 

Loki leaned back against his pillow, plucking at his sheet, and had a thoughtful look on his face. "I never knew that," he murmured. "Or if I did, I never thought about what it meant. I shouldn't have mocked you. Or made you feel stupid." 

Thor's chest felt tight and he had to wrap a hand over Loki's. "I never meant for you to feel less either, Loki. I'm sorry." 

Loki's eyes met his and he didn't say anything for a moment, letting them both relax. Then a glimmer of a smile appeared on his lips. "You still have a stupid helmet." 

"Says the person with the most ridiculous helmet in Nine Realms," Thor tossed back, grinning. 

He could see the possible retorts forming, but before Loki could speak them, Frigga sailed into the room in a flutter of colored silk. "There you both are! Oh, look at you, sitting so peacefully. Let me rejoice in the contentment I see--"

She stopped abruptly, as Thor saw it, too. Loki's eyes went blank, and he went abruptly still. 

"Rejoice," he repeated, voice toneless. He didn't move, even to breathe, sitting rigid as ice.

Thor frowned, worried. "Loki--" But Frigga held up her hand to silence him and she frowned at Loki.

"Rejoice," Loki repeated. His voice was so flat and lifeless it sent a chill down Thor's back. "For you are free. Free of want. Free of suffering."

It wasn't quite the same but it reminded Thor of those recordings he'd seen on the SHIELD flying carrier. "That sounds like what you said on Midgard?"

"Midgard?" Loki repeated, blinking, as if he were waking up. A confused frown drew his brows together, and he pressed a hand against his chest, his breathing in desperate gulps.

Frigga sat beside him on the bed. "That's not important right now, darling. What happened? What did you see?" She smoothed back his short hair. "Who said those words you were repeating just now?"

"I don't -- I don't know." HIs hands were shaking, even his lower lip was trembling until he bit it. "I can't breathe," he whispered.

Frigga pulled him against her body, cradling his head against her shoulder. "You're safe, little one," she whispered. "You're home and nobody can hurt you here." 

"What's wrong with me?" His voice was ragged, rising up from where his face was buried in her hair.

"Nothing," she soothed. "Nothing's wrong with you. You're reacting to memories you can't access yet."

He lifted his head, and Thor's hand reached out in a reflective urge to help him from the imploring look on his face. "You can. You can help me remember it. Please," he added and though Thor would've said there was no way Frigga could resist that, she shook her head. 

Her fingers were light on his cheek. "I could, perhaps, but I don't think I should, Loki. To have all the memories crash upon you at once-- I don't think anyone could handle that."

"It's better than _this_!" he protested, voice rising to a broken shout, but his eyes were wet. 

Frigga kept her calm. "If pieces upset you so much, the full memories will be no better. Knowledge is not always better than ignorance, my son. Let your mind reveal it to you slowly."

Miserably, he shook his head against her shoulder, burying his face again. Frigga lifted her eyes to Thor and flicked two fingers at him. 

He got the message, climbing to his feet. He wanted to say something to Loki, but whatever he considered sounded stupid, so it was better just to go and let her tend him.

Creeping out as softly as he could, he closed the door behind him and bit his lip in worry.

To hear those words come out, clearly without Loki's conscious will, had been unnerving. Wrong. They needed to help him, but Thor had no idea how. Nor did he like how close Loki seemed to be remembering everything; Loki was already feeling too uncertain in himself and his ability, to handle the truth of his adoption well, and yet if he remembered on his own, it would be worse.

He wanted to talk to his friends, but they weren't back yet. Who then?

It came to him what the obvious answer was: he should talk to the king.

* * *

tbc...


	21. The first revelation

It turned out not quite so easy to talk to the king, and Thor was able to get him alone only seconds before Frigga hurried into the room.

“Eir is with him, but I will return to him shortly. There is ill news, did Thor tell you?” she asked.

“Thor has told me nothing yet,” Odin answered. “I presume you mean Loki?”

“He shared another memory of his missing time,” she started and Thor didn’t think that was a good description at all.

“He blankly repeated someone else’s words, Father. As if bespelled. It was eerie, but also sounded similar to what he was saying on Midgard.”

Odin exchanged a look with Frigga and she nodded, adding, “As you noticed before, it seemed religious in tone.” She cast an illusion copy of Loki, the words repeating again, and just as chilling the second time.

Odin’s frown deepened and he cast his gaze away, before shaking his head once. “There are too many I recall who use similar phrases. Yet it tickles my memory of something not so very long ago. Heimdall!” he called, “Attend. Frigga, repeat it.”

The illusion played again, and Odin’s eye went distant, listening to a response Thor could not hear.

Odin grunted in annoyance. “He remembers it, too. I will search the Chronicle, now that I have confirmation it was recent.”

There was a log kept in Asgard of events outside of it which were noted by her observers, whether those who visited other Realms or through arts such as Heimdall or the king’s. Thor had looked at it a few times, but it was only a summary, and he wasn’t sure what information his father would find in it.

“How can you not recall it?” Thor asked. He would have expected Odin to remember everything, and yet here, he didn’t remember something from less than a century ago.

Thor winced at the implied criticism and would have retracted it, but his father only shook his head once. His voice was weary as he answered, “There are so many, Thor. Mortals fling themselves upon a pyre for little cause, and all there is out there is death.” He waved his fingers outward, toward the stars, and Thor had to nod his understanding.

Odin went on, squaring his shoulders again, “But I will look. Perhaps something may spark.”

“That would be good to know,” Frigga said, “but not the reason for my visit. Loki is quite troubled by this recollection, and I fear these memories are returning swiftly. I think we need to tell him the truth of his blood soon.”

“That was what I was going to suggest,” Thor added, and grimaced. “I don’t want to since I know it will hurt him, but if he remembers on his own, it will be worse.”

“Yes,” Odin agreed heavily, but when Frigga turned, as if to rush right back to Loki’s bedside and tell him that minute, he held up a hand. “Let me look at the Chronicle, and see if Heimdall and I can recall what teases our memory. I would rather be armed with that knowledge before risking Loki’s recollection.”

She glanced at the door and bit her lip, before acceding with a nod. He moved to the side table, set Gungnir against the wall, and activated the Archive. As it formed in the air, he stroked his beard, scanning the entries

“Thor, I’ll stay to help your father, and if you would go keep Loki company when Eir is finished; I think we should not leave him alone right now.”

Thor agreed, but lingered, hoping his father would see the entry that would remind him of what he had heard. But Frigga flicked her fingers to coax him to go, so he went.

* * *

Frigga waited, watching Odin flip through the Chronicle – entry after entry of reports of various happenings that someone in Asgard had seen and noted of interest. It was indexed to longer reports and information on worlds and persons, most of them mortal and most long dead.

She wondered if he was recalling Kree; there were elements of their society that were both militaristic and zealous. The Kree were powerful enough to hold a weakened Loki captive and hurt him, though they were usually not fool enough to want to challenge Asgard nor did they bother with sorcerers or other means to hide themselves.

 _They are mortal, they change,_ she reminded herself. Kree were long-lived for mortals, but still, it was an error to assume they remained static. Perhaps one had found a technique to hide his movements while acquiring the Infinity Stones.

A soft breath drew her attention back to Odin, in time to see him slump against the table, one hand bracing himself upright.

“Odin?” she hurried to him. “Are you well?”

He turned his head toward her, his expression troubled, and then he looked back at the Archive display. His free hand expanded one corner of it into a bigger image.

She saw a green-skinned race and the notation: Zehoberei.

“It was this I remember,” he answered, his voice a little hoarse.

Leaning against his shoulder to read it, she asked, “This world?”

He didn’t take his gaze from the report in front of them. “Twenty years ago, an invader came. I remember Heimdall telling me to look, because an old enemy had returned. So I watched…” His eye closed in pain. “As before, he came to the world as a locust does, divided the population, and his soldiers murdered half. Not for conquest, not for gain, simply for… death. And all the while his herald intoned the most horrifying things about how it was a _joyful_ event. They were being freed from their suffering.”

The echo of Loki’s words made her shudder, and she seized his hand in hers, as a horrible deep forboding took over her body. She had heard this story before. He took strength from the grip and continued, “I started to rouse the Einharjar to battle, but before the day was over, the attack had ended and his fleet had vanished, as it always had before.” He inhaled a deep breath. “Thanos the Mad Titan, Frigga. That is who seeks to unite the Infinity Stones and spread his madness across the universe.”

She whispered, “That is who held our son.”

“Yes,” he agreed, “I think so. I still wish confirmation, but it fits too well.”

“Thanos.” She knew the name, too. Thanos was a warlord of Titan, altered into immortality and a near-Asgardian power, who was the last survivor of his world and reappeared periodically to bring to other worlds what had befallen his. He took beings from those worlds into his service, made them powerful tools of death, increasing his army each time he struck. Was it possible that Thanos had built his power enough to challenge Asgard?

“What will we do?” she asked.

“Destroy him,” Odin answered with the wrath of the warrior king in his voice and his blazing eye. This time she was not at all averse to seeing him return. “I have let him prey upon the universe for too long already. I will find his hidden fortress and his army and turn them to ash, and plunge Gungnir into his heart.”

“And then remove his head and burn it,” she advised, with her own vicious chill. “But not alone, you and the boys must work together. Not in reckless haste.”

He smoothed her hair down her back, soothing himself with the touch from righteous fury to something more calm, but equally determined. “No, no reckless haste. But there will be a reckoning, this I swear. For turning Loki into his hound, I will end him.”

“And if you do not, I will,” she declared, the memory passing through her mind of his shattered body and how close she had come to losing her son, again. His more recent fearful recall and despair that were scarcely easier to remember.

It was with their hearts perfectly in sync once more, that they turned as one to look at the image in the record, a recording made of a different culling two centuries ago, of a distant but still clearly large armored figure surrounded by his Outrider constructs, and two robed acolytes.

Odin looked at it and added, “He moved too soon and grabbed too much. He attracted my attention, and now he will learn his mistake, attacking my son and a world under my protection.”

“Yes, we will avenge him,” she agreed. Then she extended a hand and dismissed the Archive. “But not now. Now we must be soft, not hard, and tell Loki the truth of his blood. That is what matters today. To reassure him that he is ours, and he is no monster. He is no changeling child, no weapon, no reluctant gift, but a son.” She looked into his face. “Can you say that to him without hesitation or evasion? Because he will sense it if you do.”

He returned her look squarely, and said, “He is my son, Frigga. As much as he is yours.”

She smiled and put her hand in his. “Then we should go tell him so.”

* * *

tbc...


	22. The Second Revelation

Thor was glad to arrive before Eir had left. She had removed the binding from Loki's legs and was helping him bend his knees, working through the stiffness and weakness of being immobilized.

Loki turned his head, and to Thor’s relief, he looked recovered from before. His eyes were still reddish from crying, but Thor made no mention of it, smiling as he returned to the bedside.

“Back so soon?” Loki asked. “Am I that thrilling?”

“Thought you might want company.”

Loki’s lips twisted sourly but he didn’t object, returning his attention to Eir as she coaxed him into doing two more bends. “There, my prince. I will leave the restraining field off for now if you wish to sit up more comfortably, but it should go back on later.”

Loki agreed and Eir took her leave, as Loki pushed himself upright. In the silence after she’d gone, Loki finally broke it with an uncomfortable shrug. “So. Mother sent you, in case I go mad again.”

“No, just to sit with you. You’re not mad.” Loki scoffed, and Thor insisted, “No. Repeating something you were forced to say, isn’t madness.” He considered and then admitted, “You should know-- We don’t know who took you captive yet or really how, but we discovered the artifact you were carrying when I found you, was the Mind Gem.”

“The Infinity Stone?” Loki demanded. “I was carrying the Mind Stone? How did I find that?” But then the rest of the implications sunk in and his rather incredulous humor drifted away and he frowned. “Is that why I forgot?”

“I think that was the crack in your head, but there seems to have been some… tampering before that,” Thor answered, trying to be honest but careful also.

Loki’s hand rested on his stomach as if he wanted to be sick, and pressed his lips together, until the impulse passed and he let out a laugh. “Someone in my head. And you’re being very careful not to tell me what I was doing with the Mind Stone.”

“Whatever it was, doesn’t matter. It wasn’t you,” Thor answered staunchly.

Loki shot him a look. “Great. Now I get to imagine what I did. No wonder my dreams are terrible.”

“Loki, I know this is difficult--”

Loki’s glare turned vicious. “Stop condescending to me. I am not a child, and you are not Mother.”

“No, he’s not,” Frigga’s voice cut in suddenly, neither of them having heard her enter. “Thor, pull the other chair close. I will sit on the bed.”

Thor turned to find Odin entering as well, and he knew from the resolute expressions that they were going to tell Loki. “I – should I be here?” he asked, hesitating.

“Yes, son,” Odin answered and let out a breath as he sat down. “What we are about to say, you have not heard either.”

Surprised, Thor exchanged a glance with Loki and then hurried to bring the chair close by his father as Frigga settled herself at the end of the bed.

“I – don’t understand,” Loki said, looking from Odin to Frigga. “Something we don’t know? About what happened last year?”

“No,” Frigga answered. “What happened before you were born. Or, no, it has some bearing on last year, since your finding out a piece of it was what caused – everything that followed,” she started and then had to look away. “We had hoped – foolishly – none of this would ever come to light. For you, for ourselves. But secrets never keep forever, and we should have known better than to hide the truth from you. So we intend to rectify that mistake now.”

Thor frowned. _Before_ Loki was born? Was there something about Thor himself that was also kept secret? His chest tightened in anxiety as Odin took up the tale.

The king’s voice was well-suited for stories, and he began as a soft rumble.

“You were told that the Winter War began when Jotunheim attacked Midgard and Asgard stirred to defend it. But it truly began when one of our own, a lady named Amora, a sorceress of great power and even greater ambition, found her way to Jotunheim and allied with Laufey. She would help him defeat Asgard, and together they would rule the Nine Realms. You see, she had learned that my father, Bor, was the son of a Frost Giant.”

“What?” Thor blurted, looking up, startled. His _grandfather_ had been half Frost Giant? That meant Thor had Frost Giant blood, too. He looked to Loki, eager to share the idea that they shared blood after all – and why hadn’t his parents mentioned this before? – but Loki wasn’t looking back at him. He was frowning a little, his lips flat.

Odin nodded. “This was… so long ago, but yes, it was an early attempt – when the Realms were closer – to bring peace between them. I never knew my father’s mother, but I do know it was possible because the royal line of Jotunheim can change their size to become more akin to Aesir if they wish. They normally do not, but it made acceptance by our people easier. But, it was a truth Bor ended up hiding, because the combination of blood yielded a far greater power than the sum of the two individually. The Odinforce was created in that union, and that was what Amora wished most of all: a child to challenge me – and you--” he added, glancing at Thor, in case Thor didn’t grasp that. “And rule through her child.”

But Thor was already far ahead of him because he knew where this story was going to end. Amora had got her way, he thought-- Loki was not Jotunn blood alone, but the blood of this Aesir sorceress. That was why they had tried to keep it a secret, not for Jotunn blood alone, but the blood of a traitor.

But then why had Odin brought the child to Asgard to raise as his own? At first it made no sense, but his heart sank with the obvious truth that it was because of Loki’s power. Odin could never risk a child with Bor’s potential raised by someone else, away from his watchful eye. So Odin had raised him, kept a close eye on him-- even disparaged his sorcerer’s skills as much as he could, so Loki could never become strong enough to challenge him.

Thor’s hands clenched to tight fists, anger burning in his chest. He was about to blurt out the harsh accusation when Frigga touched his hand. Her eyes warned him to stay calm and to wait. The story was not yet finished. His anger simmered back down and he glanced aside to see how Loki was taking it.

Loki was listening curiously, but with no flicker of realizing this was about him, not yet. Thor bit his lip and hoped the revelation came gently to him. Perhaps being only half Frost Giant would be less painful to him.

Thor shifted in his chair, resigned to waiting for the tale to come to the end he expected.

“So Laufey started the war. I had no notion Amora was involved until much later,” Odin admitted, looking off into distant memory with a rueful twist of his lips. “Asgard opposed of course, seeking to stop the Jotnar conquest of Midgard. Amora had found and gave Laufey the Space Stone to seal their agreement. With that power, he could attack on multiple fronts, including here while the bulk of the Einharjar was occupied on Midgard. So I had you and your mother take refuge in the mountain sanctuary with the rest of the children. I believed them safe there. Once shut, no force could open the doors from without.”

He hesitated and Loki added softly, “But someone opened the door from within.”

Odin glanced at him and nodded. “Indeed. Amora had her servants and her thralls even then, to do her bidding. A traitor opened the door and Amora herself transported a party of Jotnar warriors to invade. There were few warriors in the refuge and few weapons-- Your mother gave you to Heimdall to keep safe,” he said to Thor, “and she--”

“-- stayed to protect those who could not fight,” she interjected smoothly. “They would all have been slaughtered if I had not.”

“Your heart was nearly your death that day,” Odin retorted, the ghost of an ancient argument echoing in his words. “It was foolish!”

“It was necessary,” she returned, but more calmly. She faced her sons. “I surrendered to them, if they would spare the others. Amora arrived, and she was furious we weren’t dead, you had escaped, and the Jotnar refused to kill me once they’d accepted my surrender. We were all taken to Jotunheim.”

Thor gaped at that news. He’d never heard such a thing, and exchanged a horrified look with Loki.

“Laufey returned,” she said, and her eyes dropped to her lap, where her fingers rubbed together in her only concession to anxiety. “And once he saw it was me, he wanted nothing to do with Amora, as my ancestry and my power is greater than hers.”

“Mother, no,” Loki whispered.

She didn’t seem to hear, swallowing hard and her voice barely emerging from her throat. “He threatened to kill all of our prisoners, unless I submitted to him. So I did.”

Thor could only look at her, stricken by what she was saying. Laufey? Had done _that_? “You let him live, Father?” The demand flew out, unchecked. “Why?”

But Loki whispered the answer, “Because of me.” Thor turned toward him, confused, but Loki was only looking at Frigga. “That’s what you couldn’t tell me, isn’t it? That Laufey … that he … assaulted you, and he’s my-- my true father,” he finished, voice shaking and skin white as bone.

“Yes,” Frigga confirmed, soft as a breath. “I was a prisoner all through the war, until you were born, so early, so tiny.” Her lips made a tremulous smile. “I thought-- I had thought I wouldn’t be able to bear to look at Laufey’s child, after what he’d done, but then I saw you. The birthing nurse, my companion through all this, took pity on me and let me hold you. And I loved you, Loki.” Her hand gripped his. “Always, my son. Which is why it was so devastating when Laufey took you away. He was going to raise you himself, as his heir, the future king of Jotunheim and future challenger to rule the Nine Realms.”

“But I took the tesseract from him,” Odin said, “and without that, his force weakened. Asgard pushed the Jotnar back to Jotunheim and they were defeated. I retrieved your mother and brought her home. She told me of her child, so I went back to Jotunheim to fetch you, Loki. And I intended then, to kill Laufey.”

“I told him he could not,” Frigga said.

“But why?” Thor demanded in confusion. “Why wouldn’t you wish him dead?”

She lifted her head, squaring her shoulders with all the resolution and strength of a queen of Asgard. “Because he was defeated. Because your father took the Casket and his heir and left him nothing. If he was killed, a new king would arise. But if he lived, he would always know that Asgard held his future in our hands. And we raised him as our own.” Her hand covered Loki’s, but he pulled it free to hold both hands in his lap.

He was still pale and stunned, and stared down at his palms as if searching for a hint of blue skin beneath. “So… I’m a Frost Giant bastard.”

Frigga and Thor both flinched at the flat statement, and Thor grimaced, recognizing that he was correct.

But Odin said, “No. You have Frost Giant blood, that is so. But you are my son, Loki. I claimed you on the day I placed you back in your mother’s arms.”

Loki lifted blazing eyes, and hissed, “Lies. I see your true intent. You wanted to control the _power_. That’s why you brought this bastard child into your house. You were _afraid_ of me.”

Odin’s lips parted in objection, but then closed again as he reconsidered his words. “At first, yes,” he admitted. “I could not let Laufey keep you, not just because your mother wished you back, but because I knew he would raise you against me.”

Loki slumped against his pillows, the fight and anger gone from him on hearing he was right.

“And,” Odin continued heavily, fingers tight on the arm of his chair since he did not have Gungnir to hold, “I realize now I was not the father to you I should have been, Loki. I _meant_ to be-- I believed I was treating you fairly, but I kept a distance between us. Your past, your blood was not your doing, and yet I treated you as if it was. I have been trying, since you returned to us, to make up for my mistake. You _are_ my son, Loki. You always have been, and you always will be.”

Loki couldn’t look at him, lip quivering and his brows knitting in anguish that he _wanted_ to believe. He’d heard Odin’s explanation and declaration, and his acknowledgement that he’d not treated Loki fully as a son of his own blood, and to Thor it looked as if Loki didn’t know what to do with the confession.

After giving Loki a chance to speak, Odin drew in a deep breath. “So that you do not mistake my words,” he said, “and you understand that I speak from the heart and from truth, I give this to you as a gesture of my trust and faith in you.” He put his hands together and then drew them apart, a glowing box forming between his hands, pulled from another dimension.

The Casket of the Ancient Winters appeared, a maelstrom caught inside the translucent decorative sides. Odin took it by the handles and set it carefully on the small table beside Loki's bed. Frigga blinked, shocked by the gift.

“Its power is yours to command,” Odin said. “It belongs to you now.”

Loki’s eyes seemed fixed on the swirling power, reflecting its glow. His nearer hand lifted slowly toward the Casket, and Thor reflexively tensed. Loki was upset and unwell, and he could activate its power before any of them in the room could stop him.

But his hand didn't touch it. “What do I do now?” he whispered. His hand dropped back into his lap, and he turned his gaze back to Frigga. “Who am I?” His voice cracked, the pain in it making Thor hurt, too.

She cupped his cheek. “You are our son, Loki, and we your parents. That has not changed. We love you.”

“And my brother,” Thor added staunchly. “Forever.”

Blinking furiously to try to keep the tears from falling, as his chest heaved for unsteady breaths, Loki sat frozen and helpless beneath the onslaught of emotion, until Frigga gathered him into her embrace. He shook in her arms, his face hidden in her shoulder.

“I’m here, my son,” she murmured. “We’re all here for you.”

Odin leaned close enough to rest a gentle hand on the back of Loki's head, smoothing his short hair. Thor, feeling awkward but not wanting to be left out, laid his hand on Loki's back so he would know Thor was there, too.

* * *

tbc...


	23. Blood and Skin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh gosh, I never meant this to be so long without an update but between my marvel bang and some personal things, it's been a busy time. I still have my Marvel Bang to finish, but this story will go on as I can! :)

* * *

Loki’s mind whirled, lost in the storm of emotions and thoughts of history he’d never knew. Odin, his father, not his father-- _Laufey, King of Jotunheim._ Laufey who’d raped his mother during the war. Which made Loki half-Frost Giant.

Half-blood. Half-blood bastard. Half-blood _monster_.

No wonder Odin had always acted as though Loki were something distasteful.

He might be trying to make amends now, but all those years, Loki hadn’t been imagining that his father valued him less. And because he had, everyone else had, too. “Loki the lesser” they’d whispered, and they hadn’t even been wrong.

“Loki, it’s all right,” Frigga murmured into his hair. “You are my son, our son, there’s nothing to fear.”

He was making some strange sound in his throat, he realized, and he cut it off, trying to calm down. Air seemed to wrap around his chest, his bones ached, and panic made a sudden darting leap to escape. A lurching breath caught it, and he forced himself to inhale.

“That’s right,” she reassured him, “Take a deep, slow breath. Another. Good. Breathe.”

Following her instructions and concentrating on his breaths, his emotions settled, until he was feeling distinctly humiliated by the awareness this was the second time in as many hours he’d clutched at Frigga’s gown like a baby.

Pulling back, he had to use a corner of the bed sheet to wipe his face, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Why?” he demanded suddenly and lifted his face to Frigga’s. “Why tell me now? You said nothing my whole life and you tell me this now?” His voice cracked on the last word, and his eyes burned again. Impatiently he tried to blink them clear.

“Because the memories aren’t that far from the surface,” Frigga explained, wiping a stray tear track with her thumb from the side of his jaw. “And we feared you might remember only a piece.” She drew a breath and nodded to herself. After searching his eyes. “Last year, that was what happened. You found out about your Jotunn blood when one of them touched you. But your father fell into the Odinsleep, and I was too distracted to help you as I should have, and you… fell off the Bifrost. And into the hands of this enemy who took advantage of your confusion and pain.”

Loki blinked as that stirred something within, a flash of memory rising to the surface of a deep voice asking him, “ _Are you strong enough to join my children?”_

But he was distracted by Thor’s voice, rough with emotion, “You said – both of you-- When you told me what had happened, you _said_ Loki was Laufey’s son. Nothing else. You knew I thought that meant he was fully Jotunn, the same he believed himself. You let me think we weren’t brothers by blood at all!”

Loki felt sick. He and Thor had both thought he was fully a Frost Giant? And what, shapeshifted into this form? Was that even possible?

“Thor,” Odin started, but Frigga didn’t let him get far.

“No, he’s right,” Frigga said. “I thought it would be easier.”

“ _Easier_?” It was torn from his throat, incredulous. “How would it possibly be _easier_ to believe I’m _all_ monster? Hard enough to know I’m half, but to be a Frost Giant completely? To believe I’m nothing but a false skin, while inside I’m what everyone hates?”

“Loki, no,” Frigga tried to put her hand on his arm and he yanked free.

“Yes. That’s exactly it, I know it.” He could _feel_ the remnants of that loathing still curdling inside him, a desire to claw his flesh off his bones untempered by the revelation that it wasn’t true. And when it had been true, untempered by anything?

His head lifted, awareness hitting like lightning. “I didn’t just fall off the Bifrost, did I? I threw myself off. That’s why you both feel so guilty about it and why you decided to tell the truth this time.”

The silence that fell and the stricken look on Thor’s face told him he was right. Defeated, exhausted, he leaned back. “So tell me, which am I supposed to believe? The story you couldn’t admit for a thousand years that you stole a Jotnar infant and raised him in ignorance, or the softer tale of a mother’s love and her half-blood bastard?”

“Loki, it’s true,” Frigga murmured, reaching a hand toward him that didn’t quite make it before falling to the bed when he glared at it, tired of being comforted. She drew breath and admitted, “I didn’t want to tell the truth of what had happened, I didn’t want to think of it at all. We had convinced ourselves that you would never learn _any_ of this – that the secrets would keep forever. Then it did not, but I was too slow to tell you everything when it mattered. I was wrong, Loki. I made you pay a terrible price for my comfort, and I didn’t want to make that mistake again, now that you’ve miraculously returned to us.”

He heard that and he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe that she was telling the truth now, and he wanted to believe he was only half Front Giant, But could he believe it, when they’d lied for so long and the worse truth seemed more likely?

Looking her in the eye, he asked, “Am I truly your son? By blood?”

“You are, Loki. I swear, on my _life_ , on the Eternal Flame of Asgard, it’s true.”

“And I swear,” Odin added, “that you are my son by heart. I have oft treated you unfairly, but I will do better. If you give this old man another chance.”

Faced with those two oaths, Loki knew he had to choose whether to continue to doubt them and himself, or accept what they were promising. His gaze flicked to the Casket sitting so quietly on the table, thrumming with power. Surely Odin would never give such an artifact to someone who was entirely Jotunn, even if he’d been raised a cuckoo in the nest, believing himself Aesir?

“What does Laufey know of all this?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Frigga answered promptly. “To our knowledge he never put you and his child together. Of course there was little communications between us, but through proxies, we heard that he believed Odin had killed the child I’d borne. It was,” she hesitated, looking regretful, “one reason he continued to hate Asgard and Odin in particular. And, last year, he invaded the palace and struck at your father in the Odinsleep. I hope this isn’t difficult to hear, but you… killed him, Loki. Knowing he was your birth father, you killed him with Gungnir.”

Loki frowned, trying to parse what he felt about that. It seemed mostly an empty revelation-- he didn’t remember ever seeing Laufey, he had no feeling toward him as blood, and he refused to be sorry he killed the monster who attacked his mother, even if that attack begat him in the first place. “Then I avenged you. That is not difficult at all.”

She smiled her gratitude at him and patted his arm.

Thor spoke up, his voice having that odd thoughtfulness to it again, “Does this mean Loki is the heir of Jotunheim?”

“He could be,” Odin answered. “Jotnar do not care about marriage, only royal bloodline.” He turned his head back toward Loki. “However kingship goes to the one who can take power and has the support of enough clan elders to keep it. To take the Realm, you would have to defeat Helblindi, a cousin who was acclaimed not long ago.”

Loki thought about what they were suggesting and barked a laugh. “I’m not going to be king of Jotunheim. I have never been there and I know nothing about it.” He noticed Thor stir at that, and wondered if there was something else missing. Had he and Thor visited there, and Loki had forgotten?

But Odin’s next words distracted him from asking about it. “Still,” Odin added, thoughtful, “the one who brings the Casket home to them and is able to restore their Realm to its former glory would have more support than you imagine.”

Loki shot him a look, sensing some ancient plans starting to come to fruition in his ‘suggestion’. To close that down, he said, “But I am not a giant. And I think in their society, battle prowess matters a great deal, as it does here.”

Odin lifted a hand in a pacifying gesture. “It was only an idea. I have long held a hope that somehow you would be able to bring peace between the two Realms, but achieving that was never a clear path.” He slapped his knees and rose to his feet. “Think on it. You must get well before anything else, regardless, and to that end, you should rest.”

“Would you like us to stay?” Frigga asked. “I’ll stay if you wish. But it’s true you look exhausted, dearest.”

“I would like Thor to stay, if he would,” Loki requested, and had to look away when Frigga’s lips twisted in disappointment she made into an accepting smile.

But Thor was pleased. “Of course, brother.”

Both Odin and Frigga hovered at his bedside, making small movements as if they intended to touch him, before they withdrew with soft urges to sleep well, and they would speak more later.

“You… seem remarkably calm about this,” Loki observed after a moment of silence.

“Should I be raging?” Thor asked, lifting his brows at him and a smile tugging at his lips.

Loki picked at the blanket. “I don’t know… I guess, yes. They lied to you, too.”

That chased Thor’s amusement away. “I want to understand,” he said slowly. “They wished to protect Mother, and I cannot disagree with that. But to deny her blood tie to you, even by implication, seems wrong to me.”

Hearing his own feelings reflected back to him somehow made the pain sharper. It felt like rejection, that she had thought it somehow better if he were a monster than part monster and part hers. He didn’t _want_ to think of it that way, but the idea felt true.

Thor must’ve seen something in his face that made him add in a rush, “But I don’t think they _meant_ to do that, only to keep me from being curious about the truth. You were dead and past harm, we thought.”

“Wrongly.”

“Yes, thankfully we were wrong about that.” Thor squeezed his arm. “But nothing has changed, Loki.”

Loki gave him a tired, impatient look. He hadn’t asked Thor to stay if all he intended to say were empty words. “Of course it has.”

Thor nodded, accepting that, and corrected, “All right. But not _everything._ I am still your brother--”

“Half-brother.”

“Brother,” Thor insisted, overriding Loki’s attempted correction. “And they are still your parents, just as we have been for a thousand years. That has not changed. You have not changed, only what you know is changed.”

Loki thought that sounded nice, but he didn’t believe it. Everything felt different. He was different – he was half-Frost Giant. His true father was Laufey. He’d been raised in ignorance of that, and plainly they’d never have told him at all except fate had forced their hand.

Raising a hand, he examined it.

“It’s still the same,” Thor said, more softly.

“It explains a few things, like why hot springs make me feel ill.” And why his father had cared so little for him, of course. That was the important one. But- Odin had recognized his fault and had promised to make amends, hadn’t he? And he had given Loki the Casket of the Ancient Winters in token of that, so Loki should accept it as honest.

He glanced at the Casket, and narrowed his eyes, wondering if he was imagining that its glow seemed a little brighter when Loki’s attention was on it. Breathing with slow deliberation, he extended seidr toward the seed of power writhing inside.

The glow brightened.

“Thor, would you bring it to me? I need to – try something,” he requested, not taking his eyes from it.

Thor blinked and shrugged, rising with alacrity to seize the handles and pick it up. The Casket didn’t react to his touch at all, as he moved it closer, setting it on the bed at Loki’s side.

“What are you going to do?” Thor asked.

Loki shook his head a little, unsure. After Thor pulled his hands away and sat again in his chair, Loki held out a hand cautiously and set it flat against the side.

Was it warm or cold? He couldn’t tell, but he could _feel_ its power, rising and flowing into his hand, eagerly. As soon as it had a taste, it poured into him, irresistible, filling him with a power that felt familiar somehow. Had he touched the Casket before? Yes, he knew he had, he didn’t remember it, but he knew he had felt this before.

Something happened as the power filled him. Not ice or cold as he would’ve thought, but warmth suffusing him from within and flowing across his skin.

Changing him.

It was changing him.

Terror seized him and he tried to pull away, but it was too late. He couldn’t stop it, heat washing over him and leaving a chill in its wake.

“Loki!” he heard Thor call out but he seemed far away.

Everything was different. The air felt different on his skin, and when he opened his eyes, even the light and colors seemed oddly shifted.

And his skin… his hand… it was blue.

Horrified, he yanked it back from the Casket, but his skin remained blue. Frost Giant blue. With visible marks and ridges on the back, and his nails had turned black.

Thor gasped.

His heart was pounding in his chest and he couldn’t catch his breath. What if he was stuck like this forever? Had Odin known this would happen? The Casket had made him into a monster. One of them. He wanted to be sick.

He raised his eyes, reluctant to see Thor’s reaction and yet unable to resist.

Thor was staring at him, slack-jawed. There was no disgust on his face, only shock. “Loki...” he managed after a moment, voice strangled in his throat.

“So, now we know it’s true,” Loki said, trying for light-hearted but it came out too flat.

“I never saw it before,” Thor murmured, still not looking away. “It’s… “

“Awful?” Loki suggested. “Loathsome? Monstrous?”

“None of those,” Thor cut in and blinked away his shock to meet Loki’s eyes. “You. That’s all. Not that different.”

That threw Loki into a rage. “Not that different?” He flung out a hand, meaning to call a dagger, but ice formed instead, a sharp clear blade headed directly at Thor’s neck. “NO!” Seidr caught it, panicked, and the blade disintegrated to powder as it touched Thor’s skin.

Leaning back again, Loki shut his eyes, wishing for one desperate moment this entire day would be a bad dream. “Sorry. I didn’t mean--”

“I know,” Thor said, his voice warm with sympathy that just made Loki feel worse. He didn’t deserve it, not one bit. He’d turned into a creature and the very first thing he’d done was nearly kill his brother.

“It’s all right, Loki. Take it easy,” Thor said and with careful deliberation, as if he was proving a point, he wrapped a hand around Loki’s wrist. Loki tried to jerk away, afraid that he’d be hurt. Everyone knew Frost Giant touch would freeze the skin of any Aesir.

But Thor tightened his grip and nothing happened. “You are powerful, brother,’ he reminded Loki. “In every skin. You control it.”

Looking at Thor’s hand, so pale, against the odd blue flesh, his touch warm and familiar, let Loki’s heart slow. Thor didn’t let go either, waiting until Loki had absorbed the truth deep within that Thor didn’t hate him. Didn’t find this change of form repulsive.

“It’s really not,” Thor murmured, and Loki looked up, surprised that Thor appeared to be reading his thoughts.

“I’ve seen the Frost Giants,” Thor said. “They look a lot like us. Bigger. But not that different. And you look less different still. I mean it, Loki – you still look like you.”

“You wanted them all dead,” Loki murmured. “I remember.”

Thor flinched. “No, I wanted battle,” he said. “Who I fought was irrelevant, really. The stories are just stories.”

“Laufey was a monster. That makes me a monster.”

“He did something monstrous,” Thor corrected. “To Mother. That made him wrong, and I’m glad you killed him. But that doesn’t make him a monster, and it certainly doesn’t carry to you.”

His every path through this labyrinth of self-doubt finding only his brother’s quiet faith in him, Loki ran out of things to say. He stared at his blue-skinned hands, before muttering, “Has it really only been ten years? I feel you’ve aged a century. Maybe more.”

That made Thor grin. “I’m wise. You’re calling me wise.”

“What? No, I’m not.” But he knew he was, really, and heaved a sigh. “I just – this is all so much.” He looked down at where Thor was still holding his arm, something roiling in his stomach at the sight. That skin, couldn’t be his. He didn’t want it. He needed to make it go back.

And it did. The will to change it back seemed to be all he needed, suddenly – the blue seemed to fade away as the change swept over him, buzzing through his flesh and then gone.

Startled, he looked up and Thor grinned at him. “There, you see!”

“Good. Now we need never see it again, now that I know it can happen.”

Thor frowned at him. “Never? Truly?”

“Yes, never,” Loki confirmed with a nod. “Why would anyone want to see it?”

Thor seemed equally confused. “Why would I not? I don’t mind it, Loki, and of course it might be confusing to people who don’t know, I understand that, but if it is part of you, it seems a better idea to grow accustomed.”

“I don’t want to grow accustomed!”

Thor lifted both hands, urging peace. “Then as you wish, Loki. I merely meant to say--” he chewed on a lip to find better words, “you are my brother, no matter what. I was not always what I should have been, I know that now, but I’m here now, and I won’t let you fall into this anguish again.”

“Again?”

“You tried to end yourself,” Thor reminded him, his voice thick with grief and guilt, his head drooping in misery. “You were hanging over the nothing, I held on one end of Gungnir, and you had the other. I was about to pull you up, back to the bridge. You … looked at me, and you let go. You fell.”

Loki shivered at the story. It was strange hearing that he’d done something so dramatic that he didn’t remember at all. He could imagine the self-loathing though, so the feeling still lingered, but worse was the feeling of shame that he’d forced Thor to watch. “I-- I’m sorry,” he said, feeling small.

The blue eyes snapped up to meet Loki’s. “No, no need to be sorry. Just… don’t forget we love you. I know this day must be awful, and you still so hurt, but we’re with you.”

He squeezed Loki’s hand, looking earnest and sincere. It did make Loki feel a bit more centered, as if he could get through this. He didn’t have to hurl himself off the Bifrost and an endless fall through the void.

He glanced at the Casket of the Ancient Winters, still sitting quiescent in his lap.

What could he do with that artifact of power? How powerful was his mixed-blood? How much had Odin and Frigga been holding him back all this time out of fear?

Perhaps it was time he learned.

* * *

tbc...


	24. Old Fears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, sorry this is short, but I've got Big Bang due in > a week and even though I've not really worked on it, I feel too guilty working on other things, so I haven't quite finished up the part after this yet.
> 
> But in totally unrelated news "The Ice Demon and the Red Skull" launches soon!

Thor finished the children’s tale that Loki had requested from the books by his bed, but was not surprised to find Loki had nodded off at some point. He was still unwell, and after so much emotional upheaval this day, no wonder he was exhausted. Closing the book and setting it back on the table as silently as he could, Thor crept from the room. 

He found Frigga in her chambers, on the balcony enjoying the golden sunlight while her needlework sat abandoned in her lap. She looked up and smiled as he came to kiss her cheek. “Join me? Tea?” 

“Something stronger?” he countered, and she waved a hand for him to help himself to the drink table. 

He brought back the ale and slumped into the chair with a sigh. 

“How does he fare?” she asked.

“He sleeps. He… touched the Casket,” he answered turning the cup in his hands idly.

“I felt a rush of power pass through the palace,” she noted. “But I noticed no change in the temperature, so what did he do with it?” 

“Nothing,” Thor gave a shrug, but knew that wasn’t the real answer. “He… transformed. Into a Jotunn appearance. More of one,” he corrected, “Not the same as I’ve seen, but the skin, the eyes….” It had taken every spark of willpower not to flinch when Loki had raised those scarlet eyes to meet his. The skin change hadn’t bothered him, but the different eyes had hit him with the strangeness. Yet he’d known any reaction would fuel Loki’s hatred of his blood, so he couldn’t offer anything other than his honest surprise and acceptance. 

“And? What did you think?” she asked. 

“That it’s wrong that he believes it makes him some sort of monster.” 

Her lips pressed together in rueful acknowledgment. “Yes, this has been… difficult. But I think the news hit with less force this time. Or at least it seemed so, to me. Did it to you?” 

Thor raised his eyebrows incredulous at her question. “He tried to kill himself, Mother. Anything would be better than that.” 

She flinched and set the needlework aside with a restless motion, to pluck a grape. “You blame me.” 

He swallowed, unwilling to say it, but the words burst out anyway, remembering that image of Loki – a face of sudden peace of decision made. Thor had known his intent just before he’d done it, time enough to feel the horror and too little to do anything about it, before he’d let go above the endless void. “You lied to us both,” Thor said. “By omission, yes, and I know you found it difficult to tell the story, but none of this would have happened had you – and Father – had sat us down and told us the truth.” He slammed his cup down, making the ale slosh over the side and the table shuddered. 

“Yes,” she agreed after a moment of shocked stillness, her voice soft. “I know. And yet,” she hesitated and glanced at the main doors as if to check they were still shut, “I am not certain it would have changed as much as you believe. Not until all of us understood… what we almost lost.” 

That struck Thor into silence, as he mulled it over. Odin had only very recently been shamed into behaving as Loki’s father – would he have been as generous without Loki’s near death? Would Thor himself had been a better brother without his banishment and Loki’s plunge off the Bifrost to put it in his face how desperate and unhappy Loki had been? 

“That was why I didn’t want to tell him,” she added. “He already believed himself set apart, but to confirm that? With Jotunn blood and no blood of Odin’s? I feared--” She rolled the grape in her fingers, the action similar to what Loki did with his fingers when anxious. “I feared many things. And Odin feared him. Or at least feared what he might become.”

“Because of his Frost Giant blood?” Thor asked, not entirely surprised that Odin would believe that, since he had never tried to teach his sons otherwise about the Frost Giants.

But Frigga shook her head. “No, because of his potential. Because of his resemblance to those who had come before.” She laughed once sharply. “Oh, he claims otherwise, but I know. They share no blood, but she cast a long shadow.” 

“Amora? The sorceress?” Thor hazarded, since she was the only one Thor could imagine making his mother so bitter. 

Frigga started, her look at him sharp as if realizing who she was speaking to, and then forced a smile. “A tale for another time, darling.” She rose to her feet, smoothing her skirts. “I fear Loki may have another dark nightmare in the wake of today’s revelation, so I will go sit with him. But get yourself some sun and fresh air, Thor, you look almost as pale as he is.” 

She cupped his cheek gently and took her leave. 

Thor frowned after her, wondering who she was talking about. He had never heard of this Amora before today, and now it seemed there was another sorceress he knew nothing about? 

He could almost hear Loki’s voice, that cold contemptuous purr of his on Midgard, in his ear, “ _You know what this means, Thor. There’s another secret they’re hiding from us_.”

He wanted to reject that idea, but after the discovery that his parents had held back Loki’s true ancestry for so long, it seemed nothing was impossible.

Nearly overturning the table in his rush to get away from his own thoughts, he hurried out of the private chambers to find a distraction.

* * *

tbc. ..


	25. Warriors Return

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey folks! Happy new year and it's back! between (Ice Demon Red Skull starting to post and then the tragic loss of this part and some more of this middle bit in a computer screw up, it's been a while, I know. 
> 
> Hopefully you're all still reading and enjoy this update, more to come
> 
> (and just as a timeline reminder, this story is set directly after Avengers (Assemble) - GotG has not happened yet.)

* * *

Loki awoke slowly, awareness trickling back from the darkness. He opened his eyes to see Frigga smiling at him. There was something tentative about her smile that took him a moment to remember why.

She was his mother, but she had lied about his father and his ancestry for all his life. He wasn’t sure what he thought about that yet. Was he angry? Certainly. She’d kept the truth from him, and he had deserved to know. But seeing her there, he couldn’t help but remember her affection as well. Not just recently but stretching back in his earliest memories of sitting on her lap as she rocked him back to sleep from a nightmare.

“Loki?” she asked, smile faltering at his expression. 

“I--” he started and couldn’t put words to it. He was angry. She’d lied to him. But at the same time, he didn’t want to be angry at her. She was still his mother, and now he knew she truly was his mother, and that eased some terrible fear that had lurked inside him his whole life, too.

“I’d heard the rumors, you know,” he said abruptly. “That there was a secret isn’t a surprise. I always heard I don’t look like either of you.”

She grimaced in regret. “I know, but I never thought it was believable. This is me,” she touched his nose, and then his forehead, “This is my father. Now this,” she brushed his cheek, “is most definitely Laufey, though.” 

“And the black hair?” he said, meaning it as a statement, but it curled up on a question, because Frost Giants didn’t have hair at all. But that was the main thing that people had teased him about, with his golden-haired mother and brother.

To his surprise, she smiled, a brief flicker of surprise. “What? They questioned your _hair_?” She gave a laugh. "Did those fools believe Odin was born with white hair?” At his puzzled look, she reached across and smoothed the top of his head. “He had black hair as a youth.” He blinked, surprised by that. He’d never seen any image of Odin as a young man, he realized. Was that not strange? 

Yet it was oddly good to know. Even though he wasn’t Odin’s blood, it still seemed that perhaps he could be, with this new information. “I would have appreciated knowing that earlier,” he said. He meant it as dry humor, but Frigga winced and pulled back her hand. 

“I thought you knew. I never heard that question or I would've told you. Not that--” her voice faltered, “it wouldn’t have still been a lie, I suppose. But if you’d known, at least you could’ve felt better. More secure."

Seeing her look down and twist her hands together, made his heart twinge in regret. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, and yet there was still that vicious cold voice within that said she deserved it. She'd let him suffer all those years, uncertain of himself and his place. He’d known in his heart there was something wrong – different – about him, but she had lied to him that it was just people being unfair about his magic, or his bookishness, or that he was too skinny.

Feelings too muddled to settle on one, he decided to find out the answer to his question instead. “But why did I not know that?” When she looked down again, he hastened, “No, I meant not in blame, I mean – why have I seen no images of him as a youth? I know it was long ago as even we mark time, but still – I have never seen an image of his coronation. And you cannot tell me it is modesty,” he added in jest, as there were modern statuary and other images of Odin all over Asgard.

Frigga didn’t smile and her gaze seemed fixed on her hands. “To explain all is … forbidden. But you should know that not everything your father did in the past was… laudable. There was much of which he is now ashamed, and so he tries to pretend it never happened.”

That gave him enough to guess. “You mean the conquests.” 

Her head lifted sharply, eyes fixed on him as if digging into his mind to read what secrets he knew or what lost tome he’d found. When she realized her reaction had given her away, she asked, “What do you know of that?” 

Very carefully, he answered, “I know the stories do not mesh between when Bor conquered the Nine, what the other Realms say, and when Bor died.” He had been certain the history he and Thor had been taught was not complete, but only now did he put it together that Odin had hidden it deliberately, mostly by pushing the events back in time to his father, not himself.

“Clever,” she said with an approving smile that fell away as she gave a soft sigh. “I am trying to persuade Odin that you and Thor both need to know the full history, and he has said he will tell you, but we thought the more personal history was more pressing.” 

“It’s certainly more than enough to take in,” he agreed with some wry humor and a glance at the Casket sitting on the bedside table.

“I – I am sorry, sweetling,” she murmured. “I never meant for any of this to hurt you.” 

“I know.” He opened his mouth to say he forgave her, but the words wouldn’t come out. Not yet. “We’ll be all right, Mother,” he promised instead. “But I need time.” 

Her eyes brightened with hope. “Anything you need, Loki. I swear.” 

He found her hand and curled his fingers around hers. She gripped back, smiling with relief. 

* * *

Thor intended to visit Loki but one of the Einharjar informed him he was summoned to the receiving hall, so he turned on his heel and went the opposite direction outside the family quarters. 

In the receiving hall, he found his father already enthroned, and he beckoned Thor to join him on the dais. "Our warriors have returned," he informed Thor. 

"Sooner than I expected. I hope this means they bring good news." Thor turned to face the gathering, folding his arms as he waited for the brief time before the main doors were held open and his friends were announced.

Odin ordered the room emptied for their report, so they were alone as they approached the throne. All four looked unharmed, which was a relief, though Thor hadn't really expected any danger on Xandar.

They all bowed to the king, fists at their hearts, and waited until Odin greeted them to straighten. "You are welcome home, Warriors of Asgard. How fared your quest."

Fandral and Sif exchanged a glance that they hadn't decided who would speak before Fandral started. "My king, we went to Xandar as you bid. It took a little effort and a small dispute to prove our claim to be of Asgard." Volstagg snorted, and Thor grinned, knowing that meant there had been a fight with Xandar Security.

"It all was smoothed over," Sif added hastily. "And we eventually had audience with Nova prime." 

Fandral continued, "When she heard what we wanted, she brought us into her council of advisors. They told us they have been engaged in war with the Kree Empire, though were in the midst of negotiating a peace."

Thor shifted, wondering what any of this had to do with Infinity Stones or the one who had hurt Loki. Odin showed no impatience, listening, and when Fandral paused, glancing at Thor, Odin prompted, "Continue. Nova Empire finding peace with the Kree is, itself, good news."

"Yes, All-Father," Fandral agreed. "However, it seems there are large factions within the Kree who do not wish peace and reject the treaty. One in particular was of note, which was why they told us all this."

Sif took a step forward, gaze flicking to Thor, and took up the tale. "Their intelligence reported that one warlord named Ronan, a particularly zealous follower of their ancient ways, has refused the treaty. He took up the old title of Accuser, and is said to be searching for the Orb of Power in order to crush the Nova Empire completely." 

"A zealot, you say?" Odin asked, free hand on his beard. "The Orb of Power would be the Power Gem, that much is obvious."

He sounded doubtful to Thor, but it sounded a good fit. A military commander, seeking conquest and the stones to help him. And the Kree were technologically advanced, and could likely hold Loki captive, as weakened by the void as he had been. "So this Ronan is our foe?" Thor asked, but was dismayed when his friends looked to each other.

"That is not all," Hogan said and nodded his head at Fandral to finish.

"I think he is not," Fandral answered Thor and explained, "Warlord Ronan is quite powerful with many followers, but he is a Kree supremacist. He would not use the Chitauri. Nor from what they told us, would he have sent someone else, even the prince, to conquer for him. But... they did have some intelligence that said he had declared to his own command, that he had a powerful ally who would help him, if they would not."

"That ally, Fandral?" Odin prompted. "Did they have a name?"

"Not precisely. But they did have a connection. They emphasized that it was no more than rumor, but there had been activity in the shadowed areas beyond their territory, and it was known Ronan was associating with an assassin who was also the only known survivor of her people, exterminated during the Culling of Zahoberi by," he cleared his throat, "Thanos the Mad Titan."

Odin leaned back, letting out a breath, but showed no surprise. 

But Thor was not so skilled and scoffed in disbelief. "Thanos! That is a name out of a story!"

"Stories do, often, have some truth, Thor," Odin said.

Thor shook his head. "But _Thanos_? Immortal pursuer of Lady Death? Last survivor of his kind, who murders worlds to lay the bodies at her feet?"

"If only that were true," Odin said with a strange sadness, but then he stood, gripping Gungnir tightly. "Thanos the Mad Titan has killed entire populations of beings, swarming like a locust and departing again. He and his followers, his acolytes of death and destruction, never stay with their victims long enough to be caught, never coming too close to Asgard's interests to gain my undivided attention. Until now."

"You think it's him?" Thor asked, not quite able to keep the edge of doubt out of his voice. It still seemed more like a tale out of one of Loki's old storybooks, than something real. At least the Kree warlord wasn't a story that was as old as Thor.

"I know it is," Odin answered with a decisive nod. "This was confirmation."

The others who had been listening to this, exchanged a look among themselves and Sif offered, with a grimace of apology, "We could not find out more about him, my king. Nothing of his current whereabouts, if anyone knew." 

"There are other ways," Odin said.

"And then we bring him to battle, All-Father?" Volstagg asked. "My axe hungers for a good fight."

Odin's lips flattened in some grim amusement. "We will need all the axes when war comes, Volstagg. But not yet. He will not strike at Asgard while we have the tesseract, and I cannot attack him until I know more. But keep your blades sharp, warriors. The call will come. You may leave us." 

The four bowed and left at the dismissal, leaving Thor and Odin alone in the large room. 

"How did you already know?" Thor asked.

"Your brother's words. I recalled hearing similar language in the acolytes of Thanos before," Odin answered, gaze distant with thought. "But Thanos in alliance with the Kree is more dangerous than I expected. He truly is moving to gain all the stones. But why now? He already possessed the one in the scepter." 

"Perhaps that was why," Thor suggested. "He gained that one and thought of finding the others. But then, what would he do with them?"

"It matters little," Odin said. "Thanos as he is, is danger enough. With an Infinity Stone he would gain power enough to challenge us. With all of them, he might conquer or destroy the universe. We must destroy him while he is weak."

Thor wanted to believe that but when his gaze dropped to Mjolnir, still in the middle of the floor, shaming him with his inability to wield her. How could he fight Thanos, when he was without his weapon?

Odin turned his head to look straight at Thor, who felt caught in the single eye. Exposed. "And you, my son, must shed your own weakness. Your power lies within you, not in this tool." He tapped Mjolnir with the end of Gungnir making a resonant _clink_. "Come, let us see how Loki fares." 

He headed for the doors but Thor was slow to follow, wondering what his father meant. Did he not _need_ Mjolnir after all?

* * *


	26. To rise, to walk

When Eir entered and asked if Loki wanted to stand and walk. Frigga held her breath, wondering if he would have her leave again. She would, of course, but she hoped without Odin or Thor in the room, he would let her stay. 

It felt strange and wrong to feel so uncertain of Loki's feelings toward her. She had always lavished attention on him, as if she could make up for Odin's growing coolness, and always held the security of his love. And now? They were still mother and son, but distance had crept in where before there had been none.

But at least he was here, he knew the truth now, and he was recovering. Trust could be mended, closeness regained. As he'd said, he needed time, and likely so did she to re-orient herself to this family, which had been reborn after tragedy. 

Loki didn't look at her, though, as he nodded to Eir. "I want to try, at least." 

Eir caught the same doubt that Frigga did in his voice, and the Healer frowned. "Do you sense something that suggests you may not?" 

He reached down and rubbed the side of his left knee. "I know the weakness lingers." 

"Strength will only return with use," Eir pointed out. "We will begin slowly, my prince. If you feel too much pain, we will stop at once."

He sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, dangling bare feet. Once the restraining fields had been removed, he'd been able to wear some soft sleeping clothes, but Frigga still bit her lip to see how the trews and tunic hung on his body. With his hair so short and the loose clothes, he reminded her sharply of the boy he had been.

Eir stood before him and held out both hands. Loki gripped her forearms as she gripped his, and she nodded. "Now stand."

Frigga caught her breath, as Eir supported him to his feet. She was small, compared to him, but strong, holding him as he swayed. His grip tightened as he stared unblinking into her upturned face.

"All right?" she asked. 

He nodded faintly, jaw clenched, and Eir moved backward two small paces. He followed her, first his right foot and then his left. His left knee nearly buckled and he tipped to the side, but Eir held his arms, letting him catch himself.

Head down, he sucked air through his teeth, in obvious pain. Frigga had to bite her lip to keep from telling him he should get back in bed.

"Is it too much?" Eir asked softly.

"No, no, I'm all right," he said. "I can do more." He straightened, shutting his eyes when he was upright, as it seemed more dizziness struck.

Eir moved two more steps and he followed, a little more slowly than before. But this time, he stayed up. 

"You can let go," Loki requested. But it took him a moment to release her, even after she'd let go of him. 

The instant he lost contact, he staggered, arms flailing frantically, and his body listed to the left.

"Loki!" Frigga cried and darted forward, knowing she would be too late to catch him.

He would have fallen, if not for Eir's darting forward and grabbing his torso. "I have you." 

He grabbed her shoulders, holding tightly and breathing hard. After he'd calmed, still clutching her though, Eir asked, "What happened?" 

Not meeting her eyes, he explained haltingly, "So dizzy... not, not dizzy, not exactly, I felt like I was falling. I could feel my feet on the floor, but I felt I was falling."

Eir frowned, but didn't comment on that at first. "Let's get you back to the bed." 

"No, I want to try again." 

Frigga wanted to object. He was pale from effort and pain, but he was determined. Staying very close this time, so he could look right at Eir, she stood still beneath his grip on her shoulders. He took a moment, taking deep calming breaths, and Frigga felt him touch seidr. Then he lifted his hands. 

But without that point of contact helping him to ground himself, his body jerked and he had to clasp Eir's shoulders again, nearly missing one even though she hadn't moved at all. 

Frigga pressed her lips together and blinked back some threatening wetness. She had hoped there would be no lingering problem, but it seemed that hope was not to be.

Pushing down the dismay, she strode forward to wrap a hand around Loki's waist. "Arm across my shoulders, let's try side-by-side. Back to the bed." 

He leaned on her, shuffling his feet, and when she got him back in bed, he accepted the pain draught without protest, draining the whole cup. 

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, as Eir gathered near with her scanner. She looked at the result with no surprise.

"It appears, my prince, that the skull fracture has affected your sense of balance or orientation."

"Will it heal?" Frigga asked. 

Eir's glance said quite plainly it would not. "It has healed, All-Mother. What remains is scar tissue of a sort, a routing around the damage which is now permanent." 

There was silence in the room for a moment as Loki and Frigga both digested this news. 

"So I will never walk?" Loki asked, voice small.

"You did walk, my prince," she reminded him. "And you will continue to walk but you will need assistance. At first a person, to hold you steady as you hold them, but as you become more skilled-- a walking stick, perhaps. We will see what works for you."

Frigga looked at Loki, heart aching at this news. He was slumped against the bed, staring at his hands lying limp atop the coverlet. "Sweetheart," she said, and caressed his hair.

He jerked his head from her touch and turned away. "Thank you both," he said with stiff formality. "I'd like to sleep now."

"Loki--" she started.

"I'm tired." He turned to face the other way and pulled the coverlet over his shoulders.

Frigga and Eir's gaze met, and they both silently agreed to do as he asked, even though it was plain his tiredness was a ploy to be left alone.

Frigga kissed his cheek and smoothed back his hair. "You'll get through this too, my darling. We're here for you." 

He said nothing, and his eyes were closed, but body was filled with a tension that crackled in the room. Frigga turned down the lights and looked back at the doorway, reluctant to leave him to deal with this on his own.

He stayed silent, not calling her to return. "I'll be right outside if you need anything, Loki. Rest well," she said, a little helpless, knowing he wasn't going to rest at all. 

In the outer room, with the door safely closed, she faced Eir and demanded, "'Permanent'? Was that a wise thing to tell him?"

Eir did not flinch. "It is the truth. It is healed. Whatever is wrong in his brain, it is beyond myself and his own body to heal."

"That doesn't mean _never_ \--" Frigga replied heatedly, but Eir smoothly cut her off.

"It is not my place to promise a miracle which may never come, All-Mother. You may tell him so; but I must tell him what I know is true: his sense of balance and orientation is damaged. It will not heal further on its own, so he must learn to live with what is."

"But--" Frigga started, but had to turn away, because she knew Eir was right. If it was truly permanent, then he should know that. But today, on top of everything else, it seemed a cruelty, not a kindness. "He has already suffered so much," she whispered. "I thought he would heal completely. It seemed so.. promising." 

"You must take solace that he returned at all, my queen." Which was solace of course, if not what she wanted to hear. Eir added, seeing her queen was not much consoled, "The mind-- his mind in particular -- is strong. He may find a way to overcome this." 

Eir bowed her head and departed, but Frigga paid little attention. 

She glanced at the monitor where he was pretending to sleep. Both hands were bunched to tight fists and his jaw was clenched. 

Aware he was being watched or at least aware of the possibility, he freed one hand and pointed his palm upward. The images of his room all flashed, and blanked. 

She ached to go to him, but not yet. He wanted no company for now, so she would leave him be. Instead, she must tell Odin and Thor the news that Loki's brain had suffered irreparable injury after all, and he would never again walk unaided.

_Oh my son, I wish none of this had happened. You deserved so much more than this._

* * *

tbc...


End file.
